Blood Ties
by smithsbabe65
Summary: [Blade the Series] AU Marcus & Krista. Sequel to Bloodline. M & K are now in Africa and are quickly swept up in a murder mystery. Someone or something is killing the orphans. After a long hiatus, chapter 6 is finally up! Please R & R
1. Chapter 1

**Blood Ties**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Marvel Comics, New Line Cinema or Blade the Series. However all original characters are mine.

**Summary: **At the behest of some of the readers I have written a sequel to my story "Bloodline". This takes place a few weeks after the events in the first story.

Marcus Van Sciver has made good on his promise to accompany his wife, Krista to the Aids ravaged country of Botswana in the heart of the Africa.

Although this will be a romantic story, there will be a sinister plot line as well. You see dear readers, someone or _something _has been taking the lives of the orphans. And all the evidence gathered thus far by the local authorities, will point to the recently arrived vampire couple, Mr. and Mrs. Van Sciver. But could Marcus or Krista be guilty of such a terrible transgression?

Read on to find out…

And now I humbly give you "Blood Ties".

**Chapter One**

"Mr. and Mrs. Van Sciver, we're about to make our approach to _Sir Seretse Khama International Airport_. You may want to fasten your seatbelts now."

"Thank you, Helene. I trust our transport to _Francistown_ has been arranged?" Marcus Van Sciver speaks to the friendly, competent flight attendant in a calm, non-urgent tone.

Both he and his wife Krista secure their seatbelts. Gingerly, Marcus takes Krista's hand within his own and plants a tender kiss into her palm. As they wait for their private jet to land in the African nation of Botswana, Marcus' fingers intertwine with her own, prompting Krista to look over at her husband with love and gratitude.

Helene, a petite redheaded woman with pretty green eyes, appears to be in her mid-twenties. She smiles at her impeccably dressed employer, reassuring Mr. Van Sciver that all the proper arrangements have been made.

As she continues to appraise her boss, there is no doubt that his debonair appearance carries with it a certain aristocratic air. Charming, cultured and refined, Marcus Van Sciver is the epitome of what a British businessman should be.

But as a loyal familiar for the House of Chthon, Helene also knows that behind the carefully constructed façade of Old World sophistication lays malevolence.

Although Marcus has mellowed somewhat after his marriage to Krista, he has failed to escape his reputation for being a callous tactician. Helene has left nothing to chance by personally overseeing that all of the safety and security measures for her charges have been carried out to even the minutest of details.

Being completely aware of Marcus' obsessive need for perfection and efficiency, she has done everything humanly possible to ensure the wellbeing of the vampire couple. Anything less would mean immediate termination, and in the vampire subculture getting fired can be a bitch.

They will be traveling south of the airport to the sprawling medical compound located in _Francistown. _And they will be moving by day. Extra precautions had to be taken to guarantee minimal exposure to the scorching presence of the Botswana sun.

As the plane starts its final descent, Helene quickly excuses herself and then takes her seat near the back of the plane.

Krista sighs as she rests her head on her husband's shoulder. "Thank you for coming with me this time. I know it must have been difficult for you to clear your schedule on such short notice."

With a twinkle in his eye, Marcus lavishes his mate with an adoring gaze. "Nonsense, Krista! You should know by now that when it comes to you, I'll _always_ make the time. And besides with Chthon resting in the very capable hands of Sabine, I'm sure that the House's affairs can do without me for a few weeks."

Krista smiles, secure in the knowledge of her husband's devotion.

lllll

The landing had been stressful to say the least. The airplane's door had not aligned itself properly to the temporary gangway leading directly into the underground parking garage, thus allowing for thin rays of sunlight to filter into the slight gap.

Krista, who had been anxious to get underway, had not noticed the danger posed by the breach. As she stepped toward the passageway, Krista's right foot had suffered a terrible burn when an infinitesimal beam of light fell upon it.

When he heard his Krista's screams, Marcus had immediately gone to her aid, pulling his wife back into the plane before her foot had been burnt completely off.

Helene had been frantic. Her body trembled as she searched the plane for the first aid kit. She had finally found it in the galley and then moved quickly towards the ailing Krista.

Mrs. Van Sciver had been placed back into her seat as her concerned husband knelt in front of her to tend to her injury. Helene had grimaced at the gruesome sight. A deep gaping hole had been created when the sun ray bore itself into Krista's flesh. The remaining skin was blackened and bloody, bubbling with pustules and blisters

Krista had been writhing in pain, the acute discomfort she was feeling evident on her face.

Nervously, the flight attendant tried to hand the plastic box to Marcus. But instead of taking it out of Helene's shaky grasp, the incensed vampire had sharply turned to face her. His lips had been drawn back, exposing his long pointed incisors. Rage had been burning in the icy blue depths of his eyes.

Marcus growled angrily at his employee, causing her to step away from him in fear. "Does the level of the pilot's incompetence know no bounds?"

"Mr. Van Sciver, I-I'm so very sor…" Helene was stuttering, stumbling over her words to make a proper apology.

"…Sorry? Is that all you have to say after what has happened? Save it Helene! I don't want to hear your paltry excuses or your defense of such an ineffectual pilot! After we've arrived safely in town, you are to bring that _idiot_ to me! Is that understood?"

Slightly relieved that Van Sciver's wrath had not been directed at her, Helene nodded in compliance and had promised to carry out her superior's instructions to the letter.

Marcus then wrenched the white plastic box with the red cross emblazoned across the top of it. Afterward he ordered Helene to call airport security to seal breach.

With frigid eyes, he had watched as the nervous girl left his sight. After she had disappeared into the other compartment, Marcus turned his attentions back to wife.

"Marcus it really hurts!" Krista had lodged her complaint with a pitiful little voice.

"I know, darling. Just hang on!"

Quickly, Marcus opened the first aid kit and pulled out a vial of fresh blood. Setting the box down in the seat next to Krista, he proceeded to open the small glass tube. Next he gently took Krista's injured foot in hand.

Anxiously, Marcus looked up at Krista and said, "Now, babe, this may sting a bit. But I promise you'll be better soon."

Krista just squeezed her eyes shut, gripped the arm rails of her chair and placed implicit trust in her husband.

Marcus waited until Krista had nodded her consent. Then very methodically, Marcus began to pour the contents of the vial directly onto her wound.

He heard Krista hiss between her tightly clenched teeth as the blood did its work. But after a few minutes Krista had stopped squirming. The curative properties of the life giving fluid had effectively and rapidly mended Krista's foot. Bone, muscle tissue and tendons had all fused together as Marcus carefully massaged the blood into her wound with his long elegant fingers. Under his loving touch, Krista had been healed. And the end results had been nothing short of miraculous.

Marcus smiled then gave his astonished but grateful wife a quick kiss. "There you have it, good as new!"

"Thank you so much." Krista had gushed. Then she pressed her lips back onto Marcus'. Her kiss had held the promise of things to come.

After he had broken the kiss, Marcus gently chided his wife. "If you were drinking more often this would have healed itself on its own, Krista. The serum is a poor substitute for proper nutrition."

"I know, I know. But it's the only way I can be around the kids." Her sincere desire to be with the orphans had touched Marcus deeply. And he rewarded his kindhearted wife with another kiss.

lllll

After allowing Krista a few minutes to freshen up, Marcus calls for Helene to report on the status of the door seal. She happily informs him that the airport maintenance crew have already repaired the gaps and in record time.

"Good. See to it that our luggage gets through customs quickly. I don't want anymore mishaps, Helene."

Biting her lower lip in a nervous gesture the human familiar graciously bows to her lord and master before running off to do his bidding.

It's at this precise moment that Krista emerges from the lavatory looking completely refreshed. It's as if the accident had never happened.

"Don't you think you're being a little harsh on the girl? After all Marcus, it wasn't her fault."

The sound of Krista's voice prompts Marcus to turn around. The sight of her still takes his breath away, even after nearly a century of marriage. Krista has tied her long chestnut colored tresses into a loose ponytail which hangs straight down her back. Her make up is lightly applied for a more natural yet alluring look.

She has changed from her _Chanel_ business attire into a comfortable, but chic looking white linen dress. It is buttoned only three-fourths of the way, allowing her husband a tantalizing view of her cleavage. And her feet are now adorned with flat soled sandals with thin laces that Krista has tied around her slender ankles.

To Marcus she looks positively captivating.

Extending his hand out to capture hers, Marcus draws Krista into an embrace. He places a kiss on her cheek then murmurs into her ear. "I know, and apologize for being short with her. But I can't help but think of what could have happened if I hadn't pulled you back."

Krista pulls away from Marcus a bit so that she can look at him. "It's okay. Thanks to you I'm alright. Maybe it was a good thing you came along this time."

Marcus looks gravely at his wife, but when he sees mirth dancing in Krista's her light brown eyes, he can't help but smile at her.

"Yes, perhaps it was a good thing. Don't worry; I'll apologize to Helene tonight at dinner. However, the pilot is another matter entirely."

"Marcus, you _promised_! No bloodletting while we're here! With the exception of the some of the hospital staff, no one knows _what_ we truly are!"

Running his hand down the length of her arm, Marcus reassures Krista. "Darling, you fret too much. And besides even if I _wanted_ to, I couldn't possibly drain anyone right now! Thanks to that serum of yours, my craving for blood has been entirely suppressed."

Then pulling her close to his body once more, Marcus grazes his cheek against Krista's then says mischievously, "But that doesn't mean that my appetite for _other things_ has been diminished."

Krista smiles wickedly when she feels her husband's semi-erection rubbing against her leg. Playfully she takes her hand and pushes him away.

"There'll be plenty of time _later_ to appease that appetite of yours! We've got to get going. Dr. Darkoh doesn't like to be kept waiting!"

lllll

Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Van Sciver emerge from their plane and are swiftly ushered into the waiting black H3 Hummer in the subterranean garage. The motor vehicle soon departs and is well on its way into town on a dirt and gravel road.

Although the noon sun is high in the sky, Krista and Marcus are completely protected by the specialized window tint designed to deflect the rays of the sun. Encapsulated and isolated from the driver by the partition between the back and front seats, husband and wife are granted few precious moments of privacy.

Krista sighs as she slides over to her husband who happily wraps his arms around her.

"How are you feeling?" he asks. Marcus' concern for Krista's is still present.

"Terrific! I'm just a little tired from the long flight, that's all."

Rubbing his cheek into her long fragrant hair, Marcus allows one of his hands to drop onto the leather seat. Subsequently his long nimble fingers travel over to reach down and lazily lift the hem of her dress.

Krista gasps when she feels them slowly glide up the length of her thigh.

"Marcus, what are you…?" But before she can finish her question he turns his face towards hers and silences Krista with a smoldering kiss.

Almost immediately the feel of his soft tender lips on hers sets her entire body ablaze. His tongue has already slipped past the barrier of Krista's lips and is now sensuously stroking hers. Groaning against the unrelenting ministrations of Marcus' mouth, Krista feels herself being pushed down onto the soft pliable surface of the leather seat.

The weight of Marcus' body crushing hers makes Krista feel desired, protected and loved. Her arms welcome Marcus and hold him tightly. His need for her manifests itself in the form of more burning kisses. Fingers entwine themselves in soft chestnut tresses as his lips leave Krista's mouth to blaze a trail to her neck.

Krista sighs as Marcus' tongue eagerly licks at her skin. One of his hands detangles itself out of her hair to caress the right side of her face, while his teeth playfully nip at the lobe of her left ear. Marcus chuckles roguishly when he hears the soft little yelp emanating from Krista.

His practiced fingers cease their tender assault of the curve of her cheek, and then travel downwards until they reach their final destination. Marcus is hardly able to contain his excitement, his fingers tremble with anticipation as they fumble with the buttons of her dress.

"Damn you, woman! Must this dress have so many buttons?" Marcus growls with mock frustration.

To which Krista replies, "Well, you're the one that …oh god!"

Marcus has already unfastened the front of her dress and slipped his hand inside. To his supreme delight he finds that his wife is bra-less and that her plump rosy nipples are taut and erect. Cupping a firm breast within the palm of his hand, Marcus rolls the pad of his thumb over the exceedingly sensitive tip. He resumes kissing her neckline passionately as his hand peels away the material of the dress to fully expose her left breast.

Krista, anxious to feel the sweet pleasure of her husband's mouth on her bosom, takes his face between her hands to push him towards her waiting torso. Marcus's lips smolder over her skin as he kisses his way to Krista's breast. Inhaling deeply, she waits until she feels Marcus' mouth cover her nipple. On impulse Krista arches her back off the seat, thus pushing her breast even further into her husband's oral cavity.

Marcus meanwhile, ardently suckles her, enjoying the little moans of pleasure he elicits from Krista. He can now feel his own passion begin to rise as he continues to stimulate his wife. His member is fully erect and aching to be free of the confines of his trousers. Longing to be inside of Krista, to be one with her, Marcus begins to grind his narrow hips into hers. Krista, in turn reaches down to hike up the skirt of her dress to give her husband direct access to her pelvic area.

Feelings of fiery lust cause Krista to pant and groan with wanton abandon. With glazed over eyes, she looks down at her husband who is still sucking on her nipple. "Oh Marcus, I want you!" Krista sighs. Her fingers lose themselves in his golden blonde hair, as she revels in the soft silky feel of it.

Detaching his hungry mouth from Krista's flesh, he whispers back, "I have to have you, _now_. If I don't, I'll go mad!" He hastily removes his jacket as Krista loosens his tie. They both smile at one another when the carelessly discarded tie hits the tinted glass partition that separates them from the driver.

Marcus then slithers his tongue upward again, licking the valley between Krista's breasts, his lips brazing the soft supple flesh until at last he is lying face to face with his beautiful wife. In an instant he manages to ensnare her mouth, kissing her ravenously.

Lost in their own private world of passion, they don't even notice that the vehicle has suddenly come to a complete stop. Marcus is struggling to get out of his pants as Krista reaches down to roll down her white lace panties.

As Marcus tries to zip down the fly of his trousers, his fingers inadvertently make contact with the crotch of her underwear. Lustfully he groans when he discovers that the thin lacy fabric is saturated with Krista's feminine secretions. She is more ready for him than he thought and Marcus smiles in the knowledge of it.

Krista who has already removed her panties is frantically tugging down her husband's pants and silk boxers. When Marcus' engorged penis is finally unleashed, she takes it firmly in hand and starts to guide him towards her dripping wet slit. Krista quivers when she feels the smooth round head brushing against her opening. Marcus is just moments away from burying himself to hilt inside his wife. He is drunk with lust, and wants Krista with every fiber of his being. He trembles, his body overcome with his complete desire for the woman lying underneath him.

And just moments from completely possessing Krista, Marcus is rudely and abruptly interrupted when he hears the driver's voice come through loud and clear over the intercom speakers.

"Uh, Mr. Van Sciver, I just wanted to let you know that we've just arrived at the compound."

Krista sighs in frustration, so close and yet so far. "No! It's not fair!"

Marcus growls, his disappointment is written all over his face. He's as hard as a rock and now there's no time to alleviate his rampant need.

With one last kiss Marcus rolls off his wife. As they hastily readjust their clothing, he presses the intercom button to respond to the driver. "Thank you, Charles. We'll be out in a minute."

Casting a sideways glance over to Krista, he can't help but smile. Her shiny brown hair is now a completely tussled and tangled mess. Additionally the sight of her swollen lips from being kissed so hard, makes Krista look absolutely adorable.

"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary, Marcus," Krista remarks when she notices her husband's wolfish smile.

"Mrs. Van Sciver, you _owe_ me a great debt. And be rest assured that I plan to collect it, _in full_, later on tonight."

"I'm pretty sure you will!" Krista says in between stifled giggles.

lllll

After recomposing themselves as best they could, Marcus and Krista Van Sciver leave the confines of the Hummer and step into yet another underground parking facility. Only this time it is located directly below the _Francistown Medical Center_. The entire garage has a massive system of interconnecting tunnels that lead to the main hospital, research labs and the orphanage. The man-made passageways have allowed Krista and fellow members of the vampire staff to move about during the day without fear of being exposed to sunlight.

Once the driver is dismissed, Krista takes Marcus' hand in hers, and leads him towards the tunnel that will take them directly to the administrative offices of the hospital.

"So tell me about this Dr. Darkoh, what's he like?" Marcus casually inquires.

"You mean 'what's _she_ like'. Dr. Darkoh is efficient, dedicated and highly proficient at her job. As the hospital administrator and chief of staff, her work is exemplary. As research scientist, what can I say? She is bound and determined to find the answers to the AIDS virus' mutation."

She continues to guide them through the intricate channel. Their footsteps echo off the concrete walls. And even though they are walking in complete darkness, their infra-red vision allows them to see everything.

"Then why do I feel a 'but' coming on?" When it comes to Krista, Marcus has become very intuitive. He senses that there is something else about Dr. Darkoh that is bothering his wife.

"Well, her bedside manner leaves something to be desired, especially when she deals with the children. Not that she's overtly cruel or anything, but there is aloofness there. I've seen her be more affectionate to her lab rats."

Trying to set his wife's worries aside, Marcus says, "I'm sure it's nothing, babe. You know these doctor types. They must keep a level of objectivity in order to do their jobs. They cannot afford to get emotionally involved with their patients, especially ones that are infected with this disease. The child mortality rate escalates by the day here. Dealing with death cannot be an easy task, Krista."

"I'm sure you're right, but these are _kids_, Marcus. Many of them are all alone in this world and desperately need someone, _anyone_ to hold their hand, give them a hug and just be with them before the end comes. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, I guess not." Marcus quietly concludes.

At last they end their trek. They've finally arrived at the heavy metal door that serves as the secret entrance into the hospital's administrative wing. Krista lowers her head to place her right eye in the retinal scanner. Almost immediately a flashing green light scrutinizes her eyeball.

When she hears the familiar monotone computerized voice says, "_Krista_ _Van Sciver_," she knows that her identity is confirmed.

The door slides open with a resounding _swoosh_ and they step inside a brightly lit corridor. It is a sharp contrast to the gloomy tunnel they had just been in. Husband and wife walk a few steps forward before they are halted by the stern and sudden presence of Dr. Shelia Darkoh.

Clad in a white doctor's coat, she is a rather tall woman, so tall in fact that Marcus finds himself straightening out his posture to stand at his full height so that she doesn't tower over him. Both her eyes and skin are as dark as night, and her hair is shortly cropped in an almost mannish fashion. Her smooth complexion and facial features however are very feminine, making it difficult for Marcus to determine her age. Which he guesses could be anywhere from 25 to 40.

Gazing down at her hands, he can see that her fingers appear shriveled and calloused. They are strong indicators that the good doctor is no stranger to the hard work of an agricultural life. Perhaps she was a farmer before she decided on a career in medicine.

"Mrs. Van Sciver, I wasn't expecting you back so soon. Nevertheless, all the preparations have been made for your stay." Dr. Darkoh's greeting is given in clipped tones with a light trace of a Swahili accent. It is made very apparent to Marcus that she is most displeased with Krista's visit.

Before Krista can do the honors, her husband introduces himself to the imposing woman. Extending his hand he speaks to her in a businesslike manner. "Good afternoon, Dr. Darkoh. I am Marcus Van Sciver, Krista's husband."

The doctor refuses to take Marcus' hand. Instead she narrows her eyes and says rather coldly, "Ah, yes, the man that writes the checks. How good of you to finally pay us a visit. Checking up on your investment, I see."

Marcus instantly develops misgivings and a strong dislike of this arrogant physician. As he lowers his hand, he gives her a friendly smile nonetheless. And when he starts to speak to her again, the even timber of his voice does not betray his negative feelings toward Dr. Darkoh.

"Yes, Dr. Darkoh. As the man whose signature appears on every check that keeps this facility running, including _your_ paycheck I might add, I think it would be prudent of me to see exactly how _my_ money is being spent. Don't you agree?"

The expression on the doctor's face remains impassive, but Marcus can see the hate flickering in her eyes. He makes up his mind right there and then that he has gained formidable adversary, of this he has no doubt.

Turning on her heel, Dr. Darkoh says, "_I_ have patients to tend to. I'm sure that your wife won't mind showing you around."

End Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2

**Blood Ties**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Marvel Comics, New Line Cinema or Blade the Series. However all original characters are mine.

**Summary: **At the behest of some of the readers I have written a sequel to my story "Bloodline". This takes place a few weeks after the events in the first story.

Marcus Van Sciver has made good on his promise to accompany his wife, Krista to the Aids ravaged country of Botswana in the heart of the Africa.

In the last chapter, Marcus has just made the acquaintance of Dr. Shelia Darkoh. A mutual dislike has quickly developed between the two. And Marcus is convinced that there is more to Dr. Darkoh than meets the eye. He is determined to find out what her secrets are.

Meanwhile, to Krista's surprise, Marcus reveals something about the Van Sciver family history that she didn't know before. Want to find out what it is?

Then read on…

**Chapter Two**

"Well, I see what you mean about her _bedside manner._" Marcus addresses his wife as his blue eyes bore a hole into the retreating back of Dr. Darkoh.

Krista tries to laugh off the uncomfortable situation. "Don't worry about her. At first, she does come across as an old sourpuss, but she'll warm up to you in time. You'll see. Come on, I'll give you the grand tour."

Marcus gallantly offers the crook of his arm to Krista, which she happily accepts.

lllll

After visiting with some of the staff, Krista takes her husband around the different wings of the hospital such as the triage unit and the emergency room. Marcus takes note that the rest of hospital personnel has gone out of their way to bid him welcome. And the affection they lavish on his wife also seems sincere. It pleases him to know that Krista is well liked.

Next they pass by the intensive care unit, where the more critically ill patients are cared for. And it's not too long before they end up in the maternity and pediatric wing. It is here where Krista's face lights up with happiness.

Grabbing Marcus by the hand she slowly leads him up to the viewing window of the nursery where the newborn babies are looked after. Marcus' eyes never leave Krista's face as she places her hand upon the glass. She smiles as she watches the little ones gurgle, cry, sleep and dream. The look of wonderment on her face fascinates her husband.

"Have you ever seen anything more precious in all your life?" she asks.

Marcus stands behind her. Gently wrapping his arms around her slim waist, he pulls Krista close to him.

"Yes I have," he answers. "And I'm looking at her right now. I see _you_ Krista."

Turning around to face her husband, she looks deeply into his eyes. "I'm really glad you're here."

Kissing her gently on the lips, Marcus then pulls away a bit to look at the children just beyond the glass. "Krista, are these babies…?"

"…infected?" The light in her eyes dies out as she finishes her husband's sentence. "Some are, but we do what can for them. Until can't do anymore. The healthy ones with families are sent home. But the majority of the children born here have no one to care for them. The mothers usually die during childbirth, the fathers are unknown. So we keep them here, to be educated and raised by staff members."

Curious about the fate of the wayward children, Marcus is prompted to ask, "And what happens to them after they've reached adulthood?"

Krista replies, "Well, a few go back to live in their villages armed with the skills they've learned here. They so desperately want to do well and help." She beams with pride as she speaks about these young adults. It is obvious that she's a hand in their early upbringing.

But as she continues to speak, Marcus can see the expression on her face sadden. "Others have stayed in the city, wanting to escape a rural life, but they only wind up being infected through their own carelessness. Prostitution and illegal drugs are still very readily available here. And no matter how much we try warning them about the dangers of both, they throw their lives away for a cheap thrill."

Marcus is distressed to see his wife so unhappy. He touches her face lightly with the tips of his fingers and tries to change the subject. "I have an idea, before we retire to our room, how about introducing me to these kids you talk about so much."

Once the again the light in Krista's eyes is rekindled. Happily, she grasped his hand in hers and starts to escort him towards the orphanage.

lllll

"Krista! You're back so soon! I wasn't expecting to see you until the end of the summer. Come here, girl. Give us a hug!" A rather plump but jovial woman then throws her beefy arms around Krista and squeezes her tight against her ample bosom. Her skin is the color of fine mahogany and her broad smile as brilliant as a thousand suns. Whoever this woman is, it is plain to see that she is genuinely happy to see Krista.

Krista smiles and returns her affection, as she allows herself to be smothered in a motherly bear hug.

After a few minutes the woman finally lets Krista go then steps back to take a look at Marcus. "Well, well, well, will you look at this one here? Don't tell me, let me guess. This must be your young man, right?" Her strong voice has an almost lyrical quality to it, very pleasant to the ear.

Trying to contain her laughter, Krista manages a nod. The woman continues to eyeball Marcus with mock disapproval. "Well, girl, you sure bagged yourself a fine one, didn't you now? He's as handsome as the devil himself!"

If Marcus still possessed the ability to blush, he would be as red as beet right about now. He hadn't been this embarrassed since his days as a towheaded schoolboy when the teacher had made an example of him and his older brother for their mischievous deeds.

But being the polite Englishman that he is, Marcus takes the woman's hand in his and raises it to his cool, smooth lips to kiss it lightly.

"Marcus Van Sciver, at your service, Madame..." As he returns her hand to her, Marcus bows slightly as he makes this woman's acquaintance.

The matronly looking woman promptly places hands on her chubby hips then sternly gazes up at Marcus. "Don't you go putting on your fancy airs with me! I may be the headmistress but I'm just plain old Bessie. And some folks around here just call me _Mamoa_." Then she flashes him the friendliest grin he has ever seen.

And Bessie's smile is infectious, as Marcus finds himself sincerely returning it. "Bessie, it's a pleasure to meet y—oh!"

Before Marcus is able to finish his sentence, Bessie has trapped him within her strong arms, and begins to cradle the bewildered vampire against his will. He casts a helpless look at his very amused wife and mouths the words 'help me'. But Krista just breaks out in peals of laughter as she watches her husband being swallowed up by the over attentive Bessie.

To his utter relief, Marcus is finally released from her suffocating embrace. Bessie chuckles heartily while Marcus tries to regain some semblance of composure. And to his mild surprise, he soon learns that not only is Bessie a familiar with the House of Chthon, but she doesn't mince words either.

"It's about _damned_ time you showed your pretty face around here, mister! I was beginning to think that you didn't exist! All the decades your wife's been comin' here, and you sittin' in that ivory tower of yours. What's the matter, too afraid to mingle with the common folk?"

If it had been anyone else, Marcus would not think twice to lay them to waste. But he senses that Bessie means no disrespect with her abrupt manner. She is simply a straight shooter that speaks her mind. Her brutal honesty is an admirable quality that has gained his immediate respect.

Krista intercedes. "Bessie, I'm sure I've told you that Marcus is a very busy man."

"Don't stick up for him Krista! Mr. Fancy Britches has had plenty of opportunities to see for himself all the fine work you've done here!"

"Bessie!" Krista exclaims.

Marcus holds up his hand to silence his wife. "No, Krista, Bessie is right."

He smiles at Krista then turns to face Bessie. "I should have come here long before this, but I chose not to. But I would like to remedy the situation, if you will allow me."

However, Bessie chooses to remain in a huff. Crossing her arms in front of her chest she turns her back to Marcus, pouting her large fleshy lips like a spoiled child.

Gently he tries to coax her. "Bessie, please say yes?"

Nope, that doesn't do the trick, she still won't budge.

So Marcus tries another tactic. "Please, _Mamoa_?"

Upon hearing her pet name, Bessie whirls around. With a mischievous little grin she clasps her meaty little hands together. "Now that's more like it! You want to help, Fancy Britches? Good, then come with me! We are in dire need for someone to coach the boy's cricket team."

Incredulous, Marcus begins to protest, but then Bessie grabs his arm and starts to drag him off to the gymnasium. "Don't worry, your 'lordship', it's an _indoor_ cricket field. We wouldn't want to go up in smoke, now would we?"

With wicked gleam in her eyes, Krista watches as the head mistress of the orphanage manhandles her husband.

lllll

"Miss Krista?" a small shy voice says from behind her.

Krista smiles, and then twirls around to greet the voice's owner. She immediately sees the welcomed sight of a small boned little girl with big brown eyes and cinnamon colored skin. Her dark black hair is done up in rows and rows of long thin braids, each adorned with a set colorful plastic beads. She beams as she shows off her pink _Hello Kitty_ T-shirt, and a pair of blue denim shorts. Her little feet display a brand new pair of white _Keds._ But really melts Krista's heart is the sweet little grin missing its two front teeth.

"Hello Orisha, did you miss me?" Krista opens her arms to the little girl, who in turn happily runs into them. Scooping the child up off the ground, Krista plants a kiss on her cheek. Orisha wraps her little arms around Krista's neck and holds on tight.

"Oh, Miss Krista, I always miss you!" the child exclaims.

"So, I see you got the new clothes I left you." Krista laughs as she hugs the girl even tighter.

"Yes, thank you so much! I _love_ my new things! I'm so glad you're back!"

After a few more hugs, Krista decides to set Orisha back down onto the floor. Krista extends a hand to the little girl, which Orisha latches onto quickly.

"Come on, sweetheart. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

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"Fancy Britches, you've got to put your back into it! What kind of cricketer are you if can even hit the ball?" Bessie shouts at a very frustrated Marcus from the bowler's wicket. And although he's removed his suit jacket and tie, he's sweating profusely under the hot lights of the indoor cricket field.

After he was introduced to the group of boys, all ranging in ages from 9 to 17, for the better part of an hour, Marcus has tried rather unsuccessfully to strike the leather-bound cork ball with his bat. However Bessie, despite appearances has proven to be quite the expert player. Her pitching arm alone is the stuff of legend.

_The woman is downright dangerous_, Marcus' muses resentfully.

Once again, Bessie winds up the pitch and releases it in Marcus' direction. As the ball zooms in closer with every passing second, the would-be batter steadies himself to hit the flying projectile as hard as he can.

As the children loudly jeer at him, Marcus narrows his eyes to focus on the incoming ball. His hands tighten around the base of his bat as Marcus raises it slightly above his head.

_Almost here, that's it_, he tells himself. Time seems to stand still as the ball hurtles towards him. And just when the airborne orb is within striking range, Marcus picks right moment then swings his cricket bat at it, twisting his entire body as he does so. For a few agonizing seconds a hush falls over everyone on the field. But when Marcus hears the sweet smack of the wooden bat making contact with the ball, he can hardly believe it.

_I've done it_, his triumphant thoughts ring out.

"Well don't just stand there, primping like a _prima donna_, run man, run!" Bessie's bellows awaken Marcus from his temporary daze. Throwing down the bat, it hits the ground with a resounding _thunk_.

Aggressively, Marcus starts to sprint to the other end of the field to score a run while his non-striking partner, a tall lanky boy named Zim, runs to his end. As both Marcus and Zim run between the wickets a much smaller boy going by the name of Toti, grabs the ball and throws it towards the nearest bail, managing to knock it of the stump. And since the runners fail to get behind the popping crease in time, they are both declared out by a very exultant Bessie.

Zim wails disgustedly, "Oh God, not again! Mamoa, what kind of coach is this? He's _terrible_! We ain't ever going to win against St. Sebastian's if _he's _our trainer!"

Raising her hands up in exasperation, Bessie does her best to calm the annoyed teenager down. "Now, Zim, give Mr. Van Sciver a chance, he's just a little rusty, that's all. Right, Mr. Van Sciver?"

Marcus, who has been trying to catch his breath, says in between gulps of air, "Yeah, right. It's just that I haven't played since I was a boy."

Bessie casts a sympathetic glance towards Marcus then she yells at the group of annoyed boys. "All right everyone, that's enough practice for today. Go on, hit the showers! And make sure to wash behind those ears of yours, or there'll be no dessert after dinner tonight!"

A collective groan is heard, but the children obey as they begin to sullenly tread towards the showers. The last boy to exit is the diminutive Toti. He rolls his eyes up to look at Marcus and says with a little smile, "It's okay. I know you'll do better next time."

Marcus is touched by the child's sincerity and grins crookedly at Toti. The boy says, "See you later," and then runs to catch up to his teammates.

"See, Fancy Britches, they like you." Bessie has now sauntered up to stand next to Marcus.

With a slight frown on his face he responds, "I don't know, that Zim doesn't seem to fancy me much."

Bessie pats Marcus on the back in a consolatory gesture. "Don't mind him. He's may seem a little rough around the edges, but he _is_ a good boy. He's just had tough time. You see, he's all that's left of his entire family. Everyone, brothers, sisters, even his parents have all died in the last two years."

Marcus turns to look at the older woman. "The virus?" he asks with raised eyebrows.

The expression on Bessie's face is grim as she replies. "That was certainly the case with his parents. But…" Bessie falters a bit, which piques Marcus' interest.

"…but _what_, Bessie?"

Her face has taken on an anguished appearance. "I guess there's just no other way to say this. His brothers and sisters were _slaughtered_."

Marcus, not completely ignorant to the current political climate of Botswana makes an assumption. "I take it then that the children were massacred by the guerrilla forces?"

Bessie's dark eyes glitter with consternation as she stares back at Marcus. When she at last speaks, her voice takes on a husky foreboding tone. "Some would have you believe that's what happened, but _I_ know better."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever heard of the _Tsavo Man-Eaters _Mr. Van Sciver?"

Upon hearing Bessie's question, Marcus scoffs. "You've got to be joking, right? You would have me believe that Zim's family was killed by w_erecats,_ shape shifters? That's preposterous! They are creatures of folklore and mythology, nothing more!"

Bessie arches an eyebrow as she continues to look at Marcus. "Oh really, would it be just as _preposterous_ as the idea of _vampires _living among us?"

Before Marcus could answer, Krista has entered the gymnasium with a little girl in tow.

"And just what are two arguing about?" Krista asks as she walks toward husband and the school's headmistress.

Both say in unison, "Nothing."

Sternly Krista looks at Marcus. "Good, I wouldn't want my husband to make a bad first impression."

Next, she gently nudges the child to stand in front of her. "Marcus, I'd like you to meet Orisha. Orisha, this is my husband, Marcus."

As soon as Marcus lays his eyes upon the girl, he is completely taken with her. The warm little smile, the brightness shining in her dark brown eyes and her overall innocence remind Marcus of his own lost youth when he was just a carefree boy.

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_My God, that was ages ago_, he thinks sadly to himself as his mind briefly drifts back to a time when he had no inkling of what his life would become. He fondly remembers glorious days filled with mischief and childish mayhem as his elder brother William led the way to their next misadventure.

How he had loved his brother. And Marcus had always looked up to him. He had admired William's bold, fearless nature most of all. William Van Sciver was never one to back down from a challenge be it from a man or beast. In many respects, William had been the bravest man he had ever known.

Their mother, Elsa widowed at the tender age of 23 in the year 1876, had been left to care for two rambunctious boys. And it had been made perfectly clear from the start which one of her sons she had favored most. Marcus had been her angel, her baby. Being fair-haired and blue eyed, he strongly resembled his late father Luther, whom Elsa had loved intensely.

William, on the other had turned out like Elsa's father, with hair as black as midnight and dark soulless eyes. And she had hated her father for objecting to her marriage to Luther, on the basis of religion. Elsa had been raised an Anglican, Luther's family were staunch Roman Catholics.

Despite their differences, love prevailed. Not caring what their families thought, Luther and Elsa had decided to elope one night from their beloved Cornwall. And soon the newlywed couple had settled in London. Luther being skilled in metallurgy had quickly found steady work as a metal worker's apprentice.

Their life together although far from idyllic, had been a happy one filled with love, especially after the boys came. But then one fateful night had changed all that. Luther had been asked to stay behind one night by his employer to finish a very elaborate piece for an important client. Not wanting to disappoint, Luther had agreed to stay. And it wasn't long before an unexpected visitor had come calling. Much to Luther Van Sciver's surprise, it had been Elsa's father.

Drunk and still angry at Luther for taking his only daughter away, the distraught man had quickly brandished an old rusty pistol, letting Luther know what his deadly intentions had been. Threats had been made, an argument ensued and then both men struggled for control of the weapon. A single shot had rung out into the night leaving only one man standing.

Neighbors that had heard the gun shot poked their heads out just in time to see the assailant flee into the mist filled street. Thanks to the varied eyewitness reports, the murderer had been swiftly apprehended by Scotland Yard. And when word finally reached Elsa, her whole world had been shattered. Not even the subsequent trial or her father's execution had made up for her tremendous loss.

With her husband gone, and two small boys to care for without any means of support, Elsa had quickly turned to the drink to dull her pain. And the more ale she consumed the more sour her disposition had become. And as her sons grew, she cruelly distanced herself from William whom resembled Luther's killer and desperately clung to the only reminder of her husband, her youngest son Marcus.

Poor William, through no fault of his own, had been viewed by his mother as a lazy oaf, a ne'er-do-well that would never amount to anything. Elsa Van Sciver had treated her eldest with utter disdain. And when he was old enough, she had promptly hired him out to the local meat packing plant so that his meager wages could support the family.

Elsa had screamed at her oldest boy_. "You might as well go to work! I can't stand the sight of you anyhow!"_

Marcus can still recall being the silent witness to many of William's beatings at the hands of their strict overbearing mother when he failed to bring home a full day's pay.

It had been a great contrast from the way she practically doted on and spoiled Marcus. Marcus can still feel the searing guilt for being Mother's favorite. But William had taken it all in stride and never treated his little brother with any resentment. It had been quite the opposite, really. William had always protected Marcus and had even taken a whipping or two in his stead even though Marcus had been the transgressor.

William had even lied to his mother once when Marcus had stolen a few shillings out of her purse, taking the brunt of Elsa's cruel punishment. And Marcus had adored his brother all the more for it.

The boys had indeed been inseparable despite Elsa's best efforts to drive a wedge between them.

"_Marcus, now you don't go letting that brother of yours lead you by the nose! He's nothing but trouble, do you hear?"_

But Marcus had chosen not to heed his mother's warnings and happily followed William around the grimy streets of 19th Century London, getting into scraps with the local hooligans and befriending some of the street urchins that his mother considered to be riff raff.

It was with unkempt children that he and William had learned how to play cricket. A dirty knot of rags had served as their ball, and planks of rotted lumber were used as bats. The empty lot behind the church had been their playing field. Marcus and William took to the game rather quickly. And soon they were reigning cricket champions of Whitby Street.

And as the Van Sciver brothers grew into manhood, they had been just as joined at the hip as they had always been. Drinking, smoking and carousing into the wee morning hours, much to their mother's dismay, the brothers had vowed to always be together. However, their seemingly irrevocable bond would one day be broken. As fate would have it, a life-altering event had occurred, severing the blood ties between the brothers forever.

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Now as he lowers himself to sit on his haunches, Marcus Van Sciver stares intently at the child before him. Feeling a bit intimidated, Orisha takes two small steps back. But when the handsome man before her smiles, she can't help but smile back. Taking one of her tiny hands in his, Marcus shakes it gently. "Well Miss Orisha, it is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The child places her free hand over mouth as she giggles. Then she looks up at Krista and says, "He's nice, Miss Krista!"

"He'd better be if he knows what's good him." Krista's sarcasm earns a harsh glare from her husband, but she chooses to ignore it.

Turning her attention away from Marcus, Krista offers, "You know what Orisha? A little bird just told me that there's some strawberry gelato in the freezer. Isn't strawberry your favorite?"

With an expectant little grin, the child squeals with delight. "Uh-huh, I _love_ strawberry!"

Offering his hand to the little girl Marcus says, "I would be most honored if you allow _me_ to be your escort to the kitchen."

Orisha nods enthusiastically and without saying a word, grabs the hand being offered to her.

Now that the ice had been broken, Marcus, Krista and Orisha leave the gymnasium, but not before they bid a fond farewell to Bessie, who is grinning from ear to ear.

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Mr. and Mrs. Van Sciver spendthe rest of the afternoon and a better part of the early evening with Orisha. Marcus discovers after time that the child is indeed very bright for a 6-year-old and is downright enchanting. And much to his own astonishment, he does enjoy her company. Marcus doesn't mind in the least to listen to her prattle on about her friends, school and favorite things.

Krista on the other hand, had quietly fallen into the background, only interjecting a word or two when needed, to allow Marcus and Orisha to get better acquainted.

And when the appointed hour to take Orisha back to the girl's dormitory finally arrives, Marcus is reluctantly to do so.

As Krista looks on, she is supremely touched when the little girl bestows a timid goodnight kiss on Marcus' his cool cheek before toddling off to bed.

Marcus sighs. "Orisha is adorable!" Then suddenly, he feels a slight panic grip him. He turns to his wife to ask, "She isn't one of the infected children, right?"

With a cheerless little smile, Krista replies. "I'm afraid she is Marcus. She was just diagnosed a week before we arrived."

"Oh no, how awful for her! How much time does she have left?" Marcus is saddened at the prospect of losing a sweet child, such as Orisha.

"I don't know really. Dr. Darkoh says it could be just a few weeks before her immune system starts to deteriorate, leaving Orisha vulnerable to any air borne illness. Her condition will be so weak that even something like the common cold can kill her."

lllll

Still in shock regarding the news about Orisha's diagnoses, Marcus is restless. He paces back and forth the large bedroom suite, brooding. In the foreground the muted sound of the shower running can be heard. The heady aroma of Krista's floral and citrus shampoo causes Marcus' nostrils to flare.

As much as he would love to strip off his clothes and join her, Marcus' mind is preoccupied with thoughts of Orisha.

_Sometimes life is just not fair, is it? _

With all of the best medical equipment and research scientists at his disposable and they were still not closer to finding a cure for this monstrous virus.

_What in the hell has this Dr. Darkoh or her predecessors for that matter been doing with money I've so generously donated? _

Marcus makes up his mind to get his answers soon. He will pay the chief of staff a visit in the morning.

As Krista continues to shower, Marcus decides to get some air. Walking toward the French doors that lead into the small balcony, Marcus quickly opens one of the doors then steps through it.

Placing his hands on the metal railing, Marcus inhales deeply, welcoming the cool night air into his lungs. A light breeze caresses his face as his blue eyes take in the majesty of the starlit sky. Here in this unaffected setting, away from neon lights of the big city, Marcus can appreciate nature in all its splendor.

The nocturnal sounds of chirping crickets, the flapping of bats' wings flying over the marsh lands fill his ears. He closes his eyes to allow his senses to hone in on the soft growls of a pride of lions hunting for their prey in the distance. Curling his lips into a smile, Marcus casually entertains the notion of Bessie's ridiculous theory of murderous shape-shifting beasts rampaging across the African savannah. Then his thoughts turn to his brother, William lost to him centuries ago. Ever since his step foot onto this continent, Marcus can't help but think of him. After a few moments of silent contemplation, he feels the familiar presence of his wife's arms encircling his waist.

Laying her cheek against his back, Krista murmurs softly, "A penny for your thoughts?"

Reaching up, Marcus covers one of Krista's hands with one of his own. Sighing, he turns around to face his wife. "Did I ever tell you about my brother?"

With eyes as wide as saucers, Krista asks, "A _brother_? I think I would have remembered if you had mentioned that little detail!"

Fearing that he may have angered his wife, Marcus immediately apologizes. "Darling, I'm sorry if I didn't tell you sooner. It's just that memories of him are very painful for me, even after all this time."

"Were you two close?"

"Very. If you'll forgive for saying so, William and I were as close as you and Zach were." Marcus says carefully, ever mindful that even the mere mention of Krista's twin might cause her discomfort.

"William? Was he older or younger than you?"

Tearing his eyes away from Krista's probing gaze Marcus says softly, "He was my elder brother and I loved him very much. And he is the reason why I've refused to travel to Africa, until now."

Krista can see that Marcus is so troubled by this conversation and offers to end it.

Re-directing his gaze back onto Krista's concerned expression, he quickly dismisses her suggestion. "Thanks, babe, but I think it's time you hear this. I _need_ you to hear this."

Wordlessly, Krista nods, encouraging her husband to peel back the layers of time, to reveal his past.

She listens intently as Marcus recounts his childhood, of watching his brother receive nothing from their mother, while he was treated like the crown prince. And despite this, their bond had been sacred.

"But…" Marcus begins to say. "Something happened to change all that."

"What was it, Marcus?"

Walking away from Krista, Marcus lowers his body into one of the rattan chairs. Slouched over, with his elbows on his knees, he buries his face in his hands.

Alarmed by his defeated posture, Krista goes over to her husband. Kneeling in front him, she takes Marcus into her arms. Marcus, however quickly pulls out of her embrace and slides his body deeper into the chair until his spine hits the woven back.

Krista looks up at her husband, but his angelic face is now cast in shadow. His glittering sapphire eyes burning brightly in the dark are the only distinguishable features.

He speaks again, but this time his voice is strangled by the torment he's held in check for three and half centuries.

"In the spring of 1898 William had met and fallen in love with the daughter of the local butcher. I'd never seen him so happy and I was thrilled for him. He courted her for a few months before he drummed up the courage to bring the girl home to meet my mother and me.

On the night that he finally introduced us, something unforeseen had happened, something that would change the course of all of our lives.

You see Krista; the woman of William's dreams had become mine too. That woman had been none other than Isabel."

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End Chapter Two


	3. Chapter 3

**Blood Ties**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Marvel Comics, New Line Cinema or Blade the Series. However all original characters are mine.

**Summary: **At the behest of some of the readers I have written a sequel to my story "Bloodline". This takes place a few weeks after the events in the first story.

Marcus Van Sciver has made good on his promise to accompany his wife, Krista to the Aids ravaged country of Botswana in the heart of the Africa.

In the last chapter the secrets of Marcus' human past have just been exposed. Krista has not only learned about the existence of Marcus' older brother William, but that Marcus' first wife Isabel may have played a part in the breakup of the brothers' relationship.

Join me now, your humble writer as I bring you a bit more of this sad chapter in Marcus Van Sciver's life.

**Chapter Three**

"_Isabel_? Oh God Marcus, what happened?" Krista is dumbfounded by Marcus' startling revelation.

Marcus sighs then continues with his heartfelt confession. "Well, what can I say? I guess Isabel couldn't resist my charm and devastatingly good-looks."

Krista soundly smacks Marcus thigh for his smart-alecky remark. "Don't be glib! Just get on with the story!"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry I guess sarcasm is your strong suit, not mine. Anyway, the night that William brought Isabel around for dinner, she and I felt drawn to one another right away. I felt guilty as hell about it, and for William's sake I tried my best to stay away from her. But then I'd inexplicably find myself following her home from the butcher shop, making up excuses to be in the same places that Isabel frequented.

I was acting like a lovesick schoolboy, but I couldn't help it. I was completely taken with her."

"Did Isabel feel the same way about you?" Krista asks, curiosity getting the best of her.

Marcus' melancholy is evident in the tone of his voice as he replies. "At first, she shied away from my awkward overtures. But as time went on, Isabel and I had become quite close. William, of course was completely oblivious to what was happening, he was blinded by his love for Isabel."

Krista, more than anyone else in the world knows how much Marcus had cared for his first wife. She had experienced his heartbreak over losing her through her A.D.E. But now discovering that there is even more to this tragic story requires her to urge her husband on.

"Go ahead, baby, I'm all ears."

"On Christmas Eve of that year it all came to head. William had confided in me that he was going to propose to Isabel. He had even purchased a ring that he intended to give her as a Christmas present the very next day."

Marcus pauses as he feels the familiar lump in his throat. It isn't until he feels the moisture on his face that he realizes that he's just started crying.

_Jesus, I haven't shed a tear over anyone since Isabel died_.

With a choked sob he carries on, Marcus feels compelled to do so.

"I don't know what had come over me, Krista. I _swear_ to you that I hadn't meant to hurt him!

As I sat there listening to William going on and on about how he was going to marry Isabel, something inside of me snapped. Jealousies perhaps, maybe fear of losing Isabel, I honestly don't know. Whatever it was I had angrily blurted out that not only was I in love with her as well, but that she and I had been secretly seeing each other for months!"

Krista holds her breath, for she knows this isn't the end. Something tells her there is much, much more to this whole sordid affair.

She manages to whisper, "What did William do? Tell me Marcus, what did he do?"

"Oh Krista, his _eyes_, I will never forget the look in his eyes! Tortured and wounded, William said to me, '_How could you, brother? Don't you have everything already? You were the sole recipient Mother's love and adoration while I received nothing but the back of her hand! You could have had your pick of any woman in this bloody city! Why Isabel, why her?' _

Like a coward I said nothing. And yet William's every word had pierced my heart like thorns."

Marcus is openly weeping at this point, but he doesn't care. His tears somehow purify the sins of the past.

"I can still remember his last words to me before he left our house, never to return. The hate he had felt for me burning in his eyes.

'_After all I've done for you and you've proven yourself to be nothing but an ungrateful spoiled whelp. Well mark my words, boy, before I leave this earth I will have my revenge on you!'_

As he had slammed the door the whole house shook. I remember sitting in that chair for hours, overwhelmed by my feelings of guilt and loss. I probably would have still been sitting in the dark wallowing in self pity if it hadn't had been for Isabel coming 'round on Christmas Day bearing gifts for everyone, including William.

When I had told her what had happened, she insisted that we look for him. She didn't want things between us to end on such a sour note. So we embarked on a search of the entire city of London from the Thames to Brixton, but we turned up nothing. There had been no sign of William. Exhausted by our fruitless endeavor, we had decided to stop by our favorite pub, the _Fox & Hound _for a pint And it was there that we learned what had happened to William. The barkeep informed us that he had booked passage on the next ocean freighter bound for Africa. Apparently the ship's captain had been in the pub earlier trying to recruit men to work the diamond mines of _Jwaneng_. My brother had been one of the men to sign up. Upon hearing the news, Isabel and I bolted from the pub and ran towards the docks to try and stop him. But it was too late; the freighter had already set sail."

At this point Krista is beyond words, nothing she can say could alleviate her husband's pain. So she decides to wrap her arms around his left leg and rest her head on his thigh.

Knowing that Krista is near somehow comforts him, yet he feels undeserving of her love at this particular moment. Unconsciously he starts to stroke her lustrous brown hair.

After a momentary pause, Marcus Van Sciver brings his harrowing tale to an end. "A year had almost gone by before we received news of William's fate. It had been a letter from the owner of the diamond mine, Mr. De Vries. My mother couldn't bear to read its contents. But it had not been out of any latent love or guilt she might have felt about my brother, I can assure you.

So I took the epistle from mother and read it for myself. The correspondence had stated that my brother had gone missing from the base camp just outside the mines. After an official search had been conducted, no remnants of his body were ever found. The search party had only discovered his torn blood stained clothes. William was presumed dead. And everyone on the mining team made the assumption that he had been attacked by a lion or some other wild beast.

Naturally I was devastated, as was Isabel. Wanting to escape our unhappy memories, we decided to marry and leave England to start a new life in America. Of course Mother objected as did Isabel's father, but we didn't care. We were young, in love and determined to make a life for ourselves in the untamed West of the Americas. But our happiness as you already know was cut short by unforeseen circumstances."

Krista lifts her head away from husband leg to look up at him. The twisted heartbroken expression Marcus' face is just too much for her to bear. An overwhelming desire to console her anguished husband takes over. Wordlessly, Krista reaches up to enfold her arms around Marcus' neck.

Still consumed by his feelings of worthlessness, he reluctantly returns Krista's embrace and yet the moment he feels the softness of her lush body press into his, he yields to her comfort. Krista begins to kiss his neck then she whispers hotly into his ear, "I love you, Marcus."

Marcus pulls away from her slightly and takes her beautiful face into his hands. Looking into deeply into her amber colored eyes, Marcus responds to Krista's heartfelt declaration. "And I _adore_ you. How did someone as wretched as me get so lucky? I don't deserve you Krista."

Krista puts all his doubts to rest when her lips touch his. At first, the kiss is tentative and tender. But soon enough it intensifies as passion unfurls to consume them both. Marcus' entangles his fingers in her long chestnut colored hair pulling her face closer to his. His tongue desperately plunders the sweetness of Krista's mouth as she moans softly.

The smoldering kiss lingers on for few more moments. But out of necessity for oxygen the lovers unwillingly withdraw from one another. Smiling bewitchingly at her beloved husband, Krista Van Sciver makes one request. "Take me to bed, Marcus."

Marcus returns her smile as he replies. "With pleasure, my love."

Rising out of his chair, he quickly bends down to scoop Krista up into his arms.

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Now as they lay face to face, skin to skin, the beating of their hearts is deafening in the quiet of their room. Marcus stares down at Krista completely lost in her eyes. Nothing else matters but this, being with her. Here, in this room is only the present, and the love of this woman. The past, now purged from him can be finally laid to rest.

Their lips meet, limbs intertwine. Krista groans when Marcus introduces his tongue in her mouth. Clutching him close to her body, she returns his kisses with equal ardor. She wants him, needs him so much.

His smoldering lips leave hers to kiss their way to her hollow of her throat. His tongue dips in caressing the indentation. Sighing deeply, Krista revels in the luxuriousness of Marcus' mouth on her flesh. His kisses ignite an inferno of lust deep within her. She can now feel his teeth nip and nibble at the curve of her jaw line. Krista instinctively wraps her long legs around his slender waist, as her fingers run through Marcus' blond hair. Her lips press into the top of her husband's head and he continues to explore the contours of her neck and shoulders his mouth and fingers.

His hands sensuously and methodically travel to the slopes of Krista's heaving bosom. Marcus' long fingers tease her nipples until they become erect. His mouth is practically watering as it commences its descent toward the twin mounds adorned with their stiff sensitive peaks.

Krista closes her eyes the moment Marcus runs his tongue over her left breast, the very tip of it tracing the outline of her left areola. She bites her bottom lip to keep from crying out when at last the nipple is enveloped in the moist heat of Marcus' mouth.

He suckles at her flesh hungrily, frantically. Lust courses through Krista's veins like liquid fire, forcing her to lift her back off the bed. She throws her head back with eyes closed and mouth wide open in a silent scream of surrender. Marcus' hands are placed firmly on her back holding her in place as he greedily rolls his tongue around her nipples, teasing them mercilessly.

Krista's breathing is ragged and shallow, her body quivers as her desire for Marcus intensifies. An involuntary groan emanates from deep in her throat as Marcus ceases his assault of her chest. Gently he pushes her back down onto the mattress and takes this moment to look down at his wife.

He can't help but think, _God, she's beautiful! _

Krista is a vision of feminine sensuality as she lays underneath him, with her eyes still closed, lips parted and her long brown hair wildly tousled. Just looking at her stokes the flames of his passion. His manhood is now engorged and aches to be inside her. And yet Marcus feels compelled to bestow onto Krista the most intimate of kisses. To feel her body tremble and quake as a result of the fulfillment that only _he_ can give her. At this moment, it is his greatest desire.

Lowering his lips towards hers, he quickly takes possession of Krista's mouth kissing her once more into submission. Marcus then wrenches his mouth away to kiss and lick his way down her body. With each swirl of his tongue or touch of his lips, Krista wantonly moans his name. Marcus inwardly smiles when he senses the muscles of her flat abdomen contract and relax of their own accord. He loves the sensations he elicits as he pays homage to this area of Krista's body with slow soft kisses.

Next, Marcus places his hands on each of her knees pushing them up and apart as he lowers his body even further on the bed. His face is now just above her pubic mound and it is the most beautiful sight he has ever seen. Moist and glistening Krista's womanhood is temptingly inviting. But first, Marcus runs the tips of his fingers along the inside of her thighs enjoying the silky feel of her skin. Then he retraces the path of his fingers with his lips. He repeats this technique several times as Krista grips the sheets, twisting the material in her hands.

Her musky scent signals to him that she is more than ready for him. So Marcus decides to put an end to her sweet torture. Gently Marcus parts the lips of her vagina then he slowly slips his index and middle fingers inside. His thumb meanwhile rubs at her clitoris as his fingers move in and out with a steady practiced rhythm.

Krista is making incoherent noises of pleasure as Marcus continues to play her like a fine tuned instrument. And just when she thinks she can't take any more of Marcus' ministrations he deftly removes his hand only to replace it with his hungry mouth. His tongue rapidly laps up Krista's womanly secretions, not allowing a single drop go to waste. He then jabs his tongue inside the source of Krista's sweet emissions, reveling in the taste of it.

Krista quickly reaches down to part the folds of her vagina with her own fingers to reveal her throbbing clitoris. Eager to bring about her orgasm, she starts to rub at herself, but Marcus removes her hand to place his mouth over the sensitive bundle of nerves. As he sucks at her hard, Marcus' arousal has reached a critical point. His manhood feels heavy and is aching for release.

At last Krista verbalizes what she is feeling. "Yes, Marcus just like that! That's the spot. Oh baby, make me come! Please make me come!"

And he obliges her as his lips and tongue work even harder than before. Krista is writhing now, tossing her head from side to side, she knows she's on the brink. Her orgasm is imminent she can feel it building to a shattering crescendo as Marcus continues to worship her with his mouth. And with a final swipe of Marcus' skilled tongue she at last reaches supreme bliss.

Her climax almost frighteningly intense as it whips through her entire body like a thunderbolt. As she shakes uncontrollably on the bed, Krista cries out, "I love you!"

Marcus cannot hold back any longer. He swiftly moves his body into position and with one long hard thrust he penetrates Krista. He begins to ram into her at a frenetic pace as he swoops down to kiss her mouth. Krista groans when she tastes herself on Marcus' lips and in a fit of unbridled passion she rakes her long fingernails across his bare back. She's drawn blood, but he doesn't care, Marcus ignores the pain. He only knows that he is inside Krista, that this is where he belongs. The glorious sensation of her muscles constricting all around his long hard member is like nothing he's ever experienced. Not even with Isabel.

She had been the sweet love of his youth, but Krista is Marcus' passion for the ages. The way that their bodies fuse so perfectly, he knows that he was made for her and her for him. And then he feels it. All of his love, lust and obsession amass into this one perfect moment, this single instant of utter fulfillment.

Looking deeply into her eyes Marcus proclaims, "Oh, Krista, I love you!" And then he lets go, giving in to his powerful orgasm. He comes hard and deep as his body trembles over his wife. Marcus continues to thrust his hips forward until he is completely spent and collapses onto Krista's chest.

Exhausted but content, Marcus and Krista declare their love for one another before husband wife drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

And just outside their balcony a pair of red eyes burning through the darkness of the night, jealously observe the blissful couple.

lllll

At around three in the morning Marcus stirs from his slumber. Krista is still in his arms sleeping soundly. Careful not to disturb her, he gently moves her head off his chest laying it to rest on a soft fluffy pillow before getting out of bed.

Grabbing the robe that is draped on the footboard of the bed, he quickly wraps it around his body then Marcus starts to walk over to the French doors.

He soon realizes that due to their preoccupation with other matters earlier this night, that neither he nor Krista had remembered to draw close the curtains. Thank goodness he had roused from his sleep in time to remedy the situation before sunrise!

As his hands reach up to take hold of the heavy black drapes, Marcus sees something just outside the doors that catches his undivided attention. He stands stock still as he tries to establish what exactly has crossed his field of vision. As unbelievable as it may seem, there standing on the rustic tiled floor of the balcony is a great ferocious lion. Staring defiantly back him with eyes as black as onyxes, the large jungle cat makes no move towards the doors, but it menacingly growls at Marcus nonetheless. By Marcus' estimations, this wild feline is much larger than the average _Panthera leo. _As the powerful lookinganimal starts to slowly stalk the balcony, Marcus can see its muscles ripple with each step it takes.

Marcus quickly turns his head away to cast a nervous look back towards the bed, and is relieved to see that his wife still sleeps, completely oblivious to the danger just outside their bedroom. And as Marcus spins back around to confront the unwelcome intruder, to his complete astonishment the lion has vanished.

_Could I have just imagined it_, he wonders worriedly.

No, Marcus is certain of what he's just seen, the lion had been there.

Promptly, he draws the drapes closed with a dramatic flourish and soon he rejoins Krista in their bed. Taking her sleeping form into his arms, Marcus pulls her close to him. Holding his wife protectively, he soon falls into a fitful restless sleep. Under his closed lids, Marcus' eyes move rapidly as he dreams of William being attacked repeatedly by a man-eating beast. In his nightmare he frantically tries to call out to his brother and go to his aid, but an unseen force holds him back. All Marcus can do is watch helplessly as William is torn apart by the fangs and claws of a black panther.

lllll

The next morning Marcus Van Sciver wakes up with a fright, bolting his body upright in bed. Breathing heavily and drenched in sweat, he manages to startle his wife, Krista. Instantly her arms are around her husband.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asks anxiously.

Marcus still under the effects of his powerful dreams stares straight ahead as his eyes try to readjust themselves to this plane of reality.

"It was William…" he says abruptly. "I was dreaming of him, of what happened to him."

Krista kisses his upper arm then says, "Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry."

Placing his hand over Krista's, he reassures her that she has nothing to feel sorry about. Suddenly remembering the lion he saw in the wee hours of the morning, he quickly decides not tell his wife about it. There really is no need to alarm her. However, Marcus makes a mental note to speak to security about the incident. There is simply no excuse for wild animals to running about frightening the residents of this compound.

"It's just being in this place, on this continent has stirred up my memories of William, now more than ever."

"I understand. It must be difficult for you to know that somewhere in Africa your brother met his death."

Taking a deep breath, Marcus turns away from his wife. "That's just it Krista, I know _exactly_ where William died. You see my love, the diamonds mines of _Jwaneng _are located right here in Botswana. As a matter fact the town of _Jwaneng_ is only about 30 miles from this very compound."

Krista's eyes open wide in disbelief. "Oh my God, I had no idea! It's no wonder you're having nightmares!"

Wanting to dispel the dark mood of the morning, Marcus whirls around to look at his wife. Cupping the side of her face in his hand, he says lovingly, "And that's just what they are, Krista, just dreams. They are not real; they can't hurt me, or _us_."

Half-convinced by her husband's words, Krista smiles feebly.

"Come on, let's take a shower. We have to get ready to greet the day. And I have a date with Dr. Darkoh."

Raising an eyebrow, Krista looks curiously at her husband. "A date?" she asks. "Should I be jealous?"

Laughing at his wife's display of possessiveness, Marcus replies, "Hardly! I just have a few questions for our illustrious chief of staff. Questions, that for _her_ sake, she'd better have answers to."

lllll

"Dr. Darkoh, Mr. Van Sciver is here to see you."

Sheila Darkoh, sitting at her desk, looks up from the patient file she has been reading. Petra, her young yet competent secretary has just entered her office to announce the unanticipated arrival the hospital's principle patron.

With cold mysterious eyes, the physician stares at her clerical assistant, intimidating the poor girl in the process. After few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Dr. Darkoh finally addresses Petra.

"Very well, show him in."

As she straightens her posture and folds her claw-like hands above her desk, Marcus is graciously shown into her office. Her dark fathomless eyes watch him carefully as he walks towards her. Shelia immediately discerns that he exudes the sophisticated confidence of man that is accustomed to having the world at his feet. Impeccably dressed and coiffed, Marcus does cut a handsome figure of masculinity.

_A woman would have to be dead not to notice_, Dr. Darkoh thinks to herself.

Not bothering to rise from her chair, her full lips twist into a smirk as she coldly greets him. "Good morning, Mr. Van Sciver. Do what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"

Proper protocol demands that he remain standing until he is invited to sit, but in this case, protocol be damned. The House of Chthon has bankrolled this facility for nearly 100 years. And as the supreme overlord of said house, Marcus Van Sciver has every right to sit wherever he damned well pleases.

Gingerly he takes the seat directly in front the imposing desk of the chief of staff, not once taking his glacial blue eyes off her impassive face.

"Well, why don't you sit down, Mr. Van Sciver?" Dr. Darkoh says sarcastically, knowing full well that he has already done so.

Smirking arrogantly at her, Marcus replies, "Don't mind if I do."

"Forgive my abruptness, Mr. Van…"

"…please, it's just Marcus." He smiles broadly now, hoping that his feigned affability will move the good doctor to drop her guard.

She returns his smile, but it is far from sociable. There's a fierceness in her features that is almost disturbingly beautiful. With her high cheekbones, slanted dark eyes and full pouting lips there is slinky quality to her countenance that Marcus had not noticed during their first encounter.

"Alright, _Marcus._" His name rolls off her tongue as if she were purring it. "I'm afraid that you've caught me at a bad time. I'm just on my way to a staff meeting and then I have to make my rounds. So you see I really don't have the time…"

"…Oh, Sheila, don't worry." Marcus interrupts her. He then flashes her charming smile. "I shan't keep you away from your duties. I just have few questions that I'm hoping you can answer for me."

Incensed with his supercilious manner, Dr. Darkoh at last rises from her chair. Slowly she saunters around her desk ever mindful that she is giving Marcus a full view of her voluptuous figure. No longer donning the concealing white lab coat, the doctor is now clad in a body hugging sleeveless red dress with a low cut bodice that showcases her impressive cleavage. The garment cinched at her trim wasp-like waist, accentuates the curve of her hips. And the hem, scandalously too short for someone in the medical profession, displays a pair of long legs with well-toned thighs and shapely calves.

It is plain to see that beneath the aloof façade of the physician is a woman radiating sheer animal magnetism.

The rather alluring woman stops directly in front of Marcus to perch herself on the edge her desk, crossing her long legs as she does so. And much to Marcus' surprise he can clearly see that Dr. Darkoh is wearing no undergarments of any kind beneath that skimpy little dress of hers.

He quickly averts his eyes, and she smiles, basking in the knowledge that she has made him terribly uncomfortable. Good. She's winning this round. Marcus Van Sciver is not as tough as she thought he'd be.

Placing her gnarled hands on the edge of the desk, Sheila leans forward purposefully to give Marcus an enticing view of her cleavage. But Marcus stares intently into her eyes. He knows _exactly_ what she is trying to do, and it's not going to work. He's too old and too worldly to play this game.

"Now Shelia, about my questions…"

Upon hearing her name, Dr. Darkoh gives him a slight flicker of an annoyed sneer which is quickly replaced by a duplicitous smile. "Now, _Marcus_, I didn't go through almost 10 years of medical school and another 5 of post graduate studies so that you can call me by my Christian name. I have a title and I expect that you use it when addressing me." Her voice is as smooth as silk, but the bitchy undercurrent is present nonetheless.

Unperturbed by her frosty disposition, Marcus presses on with his line of questioning. "Very well, _doctor_. But may I remind you that I also have a title, that of your _employer_. And as long as you are on _my_ payroll you have to answer to me. Grant it, I have not given this institution the attention it deserves in years past. But I have endowed a great deal of Chthon's money into upkeep and research. And as any financier I expect to see a _return_ on my investment."

Seething, Sheila begrudgingly concedes to his authority. As much as loathes the very thought it, Marcus _is_ her superior. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she sighs. "Fine, what would like to know? And please be brief, I still have my…"

Smiling triumphantly, Marcus interrupts, "…rounds. Yes, I know. Far be it for me to keep you from your patients. What I would like to know Dr. Darkoh, is why after all of this time you still have not been able to isolate the mutation of on the AIDS virus? I know that a cure is probably years off, but a viable treatment should have been developed by now."

After a few seconds of silence, Sheila decides to give him the text book layperson's answer. "Well Mr. Van Sciver, the mutated cells are in a constant state of evolution, ever changing. Every time we think we've segregated the transmutation, reached a breakthrough, the disease transforms again. It's as if the pathogen is always two steps ahead, making treatment next to impossible, I'm afraid."

Marcus places his elbows on the arms rails his chair then steeples his two index fingers under his chin in a gesture of alleged contemplation. Then after a little while he lowers his hands and folds them carefully in his lap.

Looking Dr. Darkoh square in the eye, he addresses her with callous finality. "My dear doctor do you take me for a fool?"

Sheila says nothing but the loathing in her eyes speaks volumes.

Marcus undeterred, presses on. "I sincerely hope that for _your_ sake that is not the case. For you see Dr. Darkoh during my long extensive life, I have had the opportunity to thoroughly study various branches of medicine."

His last statement earns him a look of astonishment from his adversary.

"Why look so surprised, doctor? After all it was to my great benefit to study all facets of human anatomy. It makes us vampires more efficient _killers_."

He then flashes a toothy grin that reveals his razor-sharp fangs before he continues.

"I actually found the subject of _virology_ particularly fascinating. In fact I am more than certain that my vast knowledge and experience on the subject _trumps_ the 15 some years you spent in some backwater institution dissecting cadavers and playing with your little test tubes. So do not sit there and try to placate me with your pathetic excuses!"

Sheila hotly fires back. "How _dare _you come in here and tell me how to do my job? I do not need to justify myself to someone like you! I became a doctor to _save_ lives, Mr. Sciver. My dedication to find the cure and end this crisis is genuine, despite what _you_ may think! So unless you are here to _dismiss_ me, I have full day's worth of work!"

Marcus only smiles, mission accomplished. He's finally gotten under her skin and shown her that he has the upper hand in this situation.

Rising from his chair, Marcus starts to walk towards the door. "Very well, Dr. Darkoh, I will take my leave for now. But I would like to have files of all of the data you've complied over the years on _my_ desk first thing tomorrow. Call it a professional _courtesy_ from one colleague to another. And now I bid you a good day. _Shelia_."

As he closes the door behind him, Dr. Darkoh is seething. As soon as she knows that Marcus is out of earshot, she unleashes the rage she's held in check in the form of a guttural primal scream. Then she picks up the crystal paperweight off her desk and violently lobs it towards the door. It hits its target, shattering into a million fragments.

lllll

End Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

**Blood Ties**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Marvel Comics, New Line Cinema or Blade the Series. However all original characters are mine.

**Summary: **At the behest of some of the readers I have written a sequel to my story "Bloodline". This takes place a few weeks after the events in the first story.

Marcus Van Sciver has made good on his promise to accompany his wife, Krista to the Aids ravaged country of Botswana in the heart of the Africa.

In our last chapter we delved a little deeper into the past when Marcus Van Sciver revealed what had happened to his estranged brother, William.

Desperately seeking redemption for the sins of his past, the vampire overlord is determined to eradicate the syndrome claiming the lives of the people of Botswana.

However, Dr. Darkoh, resentful of Marcus' meddling and authority over her is determined to thwart the efforts of the undead industrialist. And as the two adversaries lock horns with one another, an unforeseen catastrophe will occur that lead our vampire couple into the direst of circumstances.

It's going to get rough folks, so I suggest you tighten your seat belts…

**Chapter Four**

"There you are. I've looking all over for you!" Krista calls out to her husband from the end of the wide hospital corridor.

Upon seeing his wife, Marcus Van Sciver can't help but smile. She is a very welcome sight, especially after having verbally sparred with that _she-devil_, Dr. Darkoh.

That woman is _definitely_ hiding something, and Marcus would not rest until he uncovered the secret she is so fiercely protecting. Tomorrow morning he will carefully review every file and share the data with his own independent team of investigators. There just has to be _something_ that has been overlooked regarding the suspected mutation. Marcus is almost sure of it.

He now waits as his stunning wife strides over to him, enjoying every little shift and shimmy she makes as her hips undulate from side to side. To Marcus, Krista is sheer poetry in motion, a natural beauty that still manages to captivate him each and every time he sees her.

When she is finally standing in front him, Marcus' arms draw her into an affectionate embrace. And without delay, he kisses Krista soundly on the mouth. Krista's hands slide up the front of his tailored suit jacket until they come to rest on Marcus' broad shoulders. After a few seconds he slowly withdraws from her lips. Looking into her luminous eyes, he smiles.

"Hello darling." Marcus' greeting is warm and loving.

Krista laughs as she responds to her over attentive husband. "Well 'hello' there, yourself. I was just coming to get you to see if you wanted to have lunch with Orisha and me."

But suddenly, the thought of consuming solid food proves to be absolutely nauseating for Marcus, which is a little disconcerting. A minute grimace registers across his handsome features, as his thoughts try to pin point the exact cause of this odd malady.

Perhaps the affects of serum to suppress his appetite for a liquid diet are catching up to him. After few more seconds of mulling the quandary over in his head, Marcus concludes that his queasiness is attributed to the combination of jet lag and his body's metabolic adjustment due to the lack blood.

Krista, who is intuitively perceptive to all things concerning her husband, notices the slight shift in Marcus' in deportment. Narrowing her eyes, she intently scrutinizes him.

"Babe, are you okay? You look a bit green around the gills." Krista's concern is evident in her voice.

Marcus smiles weakly at her as he tries to dispel her fears. "It's nothing, my love. I'm still adjusting to the serum, that's all. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should have Dr. Darkoh give you a check up just in case. After all, the serum does affect each vampire differently."

Raising his hand up in a dismissive gesture, Marcus moves head from side to side. "No thanks, I think I've seen _enough_ of that woman for one day."

Marcus' last remark causes one of Krista's well defined eyebrows to arch.

"So I take it your meeting didn't go well?"

He releases Krista from his embrace, but doesn't entirely relinquish his hold on her. Placing an arm around her tapered waist, he begins to guide Krista down the hall in a leisurely stroll.

Marcus thinks carefully before he answers. "I'll withhold my judgment for now. I want to take a look at the records first."

"Is there something wrong, Marcus?" The apprehension in her tone mirrors her husband's concerns.

"No." Marcus feels guilty about lying to Krista, but until he and his researchers find anything conclusive, there is really no need to make her worry unnecessarily.

"So, what's on the menu this afternoon?" Marcus asks in his not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject of conversation.

Putting on a phony French accent, Krista humorously mimics a snooty maitre d'. "Ah, Monsieur Van Sciver today our talented chefs have prepared a gastronomic delight for your dining pleasure. They have taken plump delicate pasta made from the finest semolina flour and bathed each delectable morsel in a succulent sauce consisting of the most excellent _fromage_ the Americans have to offer. Next, your taste buds will practically sing for joy as they savor the _petite pois _picked fresh from our very own garden. And lastly, you haven't lived until you've tried the _chocolate mousse, _my personal favorite."

Marcus lets the information sink in, then with a sly grin he says, "So basically we're about to have macaroni and cheese, green peas and chocolate pudding."

Smiling sheepishly, Krista gives her husband a sidelong glance. Dropping the accent she says apologetically, "I'm afraid so. Sorry honey, but it's Orisha's favorite meal."

"Say no more, I'll endure it."

"Did I mention the pudding is homemade?"

"How _homemade_ is it?"

Krista giggles like a mischievous school girl. "Well, I actually witnessed the cooks open the packets of Jell-O instant pudding myself."

Marcus says wryly, "Sounds _yummy_."

lllll

After polishing off lunch, the Van Sciver's chose to spend the afternoon with the children.

With Orisha in tow, Marcus and Krista make their approach to the wing that houses the orphanage and school. As they continue to walk towards their destination, their auditory senses are suddenly assaulted by the melodious tones of a choir. The voices, in perfect harmonious amalgamation, are exalted, giving thanks and praise to a benevolent God in his heaven.

To Marcus' discerning ear, the altos and sopranos are singing in perfect pitch, high above the baritones and tenors. As the latter add a richness and definition to the composition, Marcus is astounded by the remarkable skill of the chorus. Soon the vocalists are accompanied by the unmistakable tones of a symphonic orchestra.

"That's Mozart's Requiem!" he exclaims to no one in particular.

Krista smiles as she observes her husband stand perfectly still. Slowly he closes his eyes and allows the splendor of Wolfgang "Amadeus" Mozart's final masterpiece wash over him.

_Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,  
dona eis requiem.  
_

_Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,  
dona eis requiem sempiternam._

(Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,  
grant them rest.

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,  
grant them everlasting rest.)

Marcus loves this particular piece of music. And every time he listens to it he is instantly reminded of William.

lllll

His heart is pained as he remembers the small memorial service in that dilapidated church in the poorest section of London. His mother had refused to attend, of course. But Isabel had stood firmly at his side as he said his final goodbyes to his beloved sibling.

And although the pews had been in disrepair and the stained-glass windows with its saintly imagery had definitely seen better days, the glorious music that had emanated from the choir transformed the impoverished house of the Lord, into a holiest of temples exalting all who had stood to listen.

_Lux aeterna luceat eis, Domine,  
cum sanctis mis in aeternum,  
quia pius es.  
_

_Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,  
et lux perpetua luceat eis,  
cum sanetis tuis in aeternum,  
quia plus es_

(May eternal light shine on them, O Lord.  
with Thy saints for ever, because  
Thou art merciful.

Grant the dead eternal rest, O Lord,  
and may perpetual light shine on them,  
with Thy saints for ever,  
because Thou art merciful.)

Marcus can remember quite clearly now that it was during this particular passage that he had started to weep. He had tried to stay strong for Isabel, be her pillar of strength. But as the choir sung of eternal peace, he offered up a silent prayer of hope that somehow William had found precisely that.

His memories now leap forward to the decades after losing Isabel as well. Marcus had finally accepted his fate as one of the undead, embracing all of the perks that came with immortality.

And as a result, through the influence and power he had amassed, Marcus Van Sciver had become a patron of the arts. Although he primarily donated his time and money to the restoration of old buildings to preserve their architectural beauty, the Detroit Metropolitan Philharmonic had become his true passion.

Not only had he used his resources to renovate the aged structure, bringing it back to its former glory, Marcus also dedicated himself to ensure that only the finest musicians and singers performed there.

All he had asked in return was that every 18th of March the orchestra would perform Mozart's Requiem for an audience of one. The maestro at the time had thought it a strange request, but for the amount of money that Marcus had generously offered, the conductor had not refused him.

And so it was, year after year, decade after decade, Marcus Van Sciver would reserve that special day on his calendar. He would clear his schedule, and took no calls.

Every March 18th was spent in reverential isolation, and Marcus would see no one. And as night fell, he would make his lonely pilgrimage to the elegant auditorium that had become his sanctuary, his church. Silently, Marcus would take his usual seat in the center mezzanine balcony and listen with deepest sentimentality to the melancholic tones of Mozart's great funeral Mass in its entirety.

March 18th had been William's birthday. And Marcus' yearly ritual had become his tribute to a brother and a wife that were so well loved and lost to him for all eternity.

Each time Marcus listened to the strings, the percussion, and horns accompanied by the ethereal voices of this magnificent grand opus, he knew without a doubt that it was the closest thing he could ever be to a Heaven that he no longer deserved.

And he would weep because of it.

Marcus' anguish, his eternal torment had been brought on by the mortal sin he had committed against his own brother, thus condemning the two people he had loved most to an early grave. And yet in many ways, Marcus had considered both William and Isabel to have been the lucky ones. They were longer here to suffer.

Only Marcus remained. And oh how he had prayed that death would take him as well. But destiny, it seemed had other plans for Marcus Van Sciver.

For his transgression, Marcus was almost positive that God had brought down his anger and retribution upon his head. He had become an accursed creature, feared and reviled by humans, and yet never fully embraced the ones that had turned him. Always the turn-blood looked down upon the natural born vampires that made him what he is.

He had been a man caught between two worlds, never truly belonging to either. Desolate and alone, Marcus submitted to his dark fate to walk the earth for all eternity with only his ambition and hate to spur him on. After all, it was a fitting punishment for someone so wretched and selfish. Marcus, solitary and stoic racked with bitter misery, suffered in silence. His utter loneliness had been a constant reminder of what he had lost through his own recklessness.

If he hadn't had loved Isabel, she and William would have been spared. Marcus had been sure of this. It was his fault they had perished, and Marcus' hated himself for it. Forever trapped in an isolated existence of death and sorrow, he had been ensnared in a dark dismal world with no light, no joy and no peace.

But fate, in its perpetual irony, had granted him a second chance. Through another tragedy of his own making, Marcus had experienced a startling miracle. It was something so unexpected, so remarkable that Marcus could scarcely believe it had actually taken place.

Marcus, for the first time in decades had felt the familiar pangs of love. And as much as he tried to deny and fight against his feelings, there was no escaping the fact that he had fallen hopelessly in love with Krista Starr, the sister of the treacherous Zach.

And what had been even more staggering was that in spite of everything Marcus had put her through, which included turning her against her will, Krista had learned not only to accept him, but she actually returned his feelings. It was their shared misery, and mutual need to hang onto even a sliver of their humanity that had united them.

Marcus mentally sighs as his thoughts turn to his precious wife, his consort, his soul mate, his Krista. Like a godsend, she had finally led him out of his gloomy emotional prison, shown him the way to his redemption and salvation.

Marcus is eternally grateful to her for doing so. It is a debt that he cannot fully repay, even in a thousand lifetimes.

lllll

With eyes closed and still lost in his reverie, Marcus hears the last notes of the requiem slowly and gently drawing to a close. It is a clear indication to the world weary vampire that is it time to relinquish his memories and return to the here and now.

As the final cords of the string section harmonize with the sweet angelic voices of the sopranos, Marcus feels the fingers of his wife's hand entwine with his. He takes comfort from this simple display of affection and demonstrates his appreciation by giving Krista's hand a little squeeze.

At last it is done. The glorious symphonic work that started off with magnificent vociferousness has now ended. Its last poignant tone is still reverberating throughout the corridor where Krista, Marcus and Orisha are still standing.

Thoroughly impressed with the musicians' and vocalists rendition of his favorite musical piece, he wishes to congratulate them on their obvious skill and talent. Letting go of Krista's hand, Marcus swiftly strides to the end of the hall, then pushes the heavy doors of the auditorium wide open.

And the sight before his eyes absolutely floors him.

Expecting to find seasoned, well-practiced virtuosos in their prime and on top of their game, Marcus is stunned when he was greeted by the youthful cheery faces of the children and the adolescents that comprise both the chorus and the orchestra. Marcus finds it absolutely hard to believe that it was their tiny hands that not only wielded the variety of instruments, but they also possess the aptitude to produce a sound of the highest quality.

As his cobalt blue eyes scan the happy smiles of each child his attention is suddenly wrenched away by the reprimanding clucking of the school's headmistress.

"Now you've gone and done it, Fancy Britches! You've spoiled the _surprise_! Ever since they had found out you was comin' these children have been practicin' for _weeks_! And now look at you, barging in here, like some rampaging elephant!"

Upon hearing Bessie's last remark, some of the children begin to snicker with delight.

Under very different circumstances Marcus might feel compelled to firmly tell Bessie to remember her place. But he is so touched by the children's accomplished talent; Marcus gives them an enthusiastic round of applause instead.

"Bravo, _bravo_! That was in a word: stupendous!" Marcus lavishes the juvenile symphony with well-deserved praise.

He then turns to Bessie. "These children are amazing, wherever did they learn to play such an intricate and complicated piece?"

Indignant, Bessie opens her eyes widely. "Why, right here of course! What did you think that we spend our time just learnin' about arithmetic and grammar? Some of the kids are _prodigies_, ya' know!"

Smiling, Marcus nods in agreement. "So I take it then that you have been the _maestro_ behind all of this?"

Astonished and a little embarrassed, Bessie emphatically shakes her head from side to side. "Oh no, I wish I could take the credit but that honor belongs to your _wife_."

Shocked by Bessie's admission, Marcus whirls around to confront Krista. He does so quickly, he almost loses his footing.

Taking her hands in his, Marcus looks upon Krista with love and gratitude. "I don't know what…"

Removing one of her hands out of his affectionate grasp, she raises fingers to his lips to silence him. "It's okay baby. You don't have to say anything. This was going to be my anniversary present to you."

Anniversary? What anniversary? They had just celebrated their 99th year of marriage in grand style. What on earth could Krista possibly mean?

As much she would love to see her husband wriggle like a worm on a hook, Krista decides to be kind. "Don't worry, honey. You're not in trouble. It's just that I wanted to give you something special to mark the occasion."

"And what occasion is that?" Marcus asks warily. He knows that when it comes to women it's best to be on guard. One never knows what could set them off.

Krista leans over and whispers in his ear. "Well you may not remember, but next Tuesday marks the 100th anniversary of the night you gave me Isabel's locket. It was the night when I knew you loved me."

Marcus' jaw drops with incredulous surprise. He never imagined that Krista would revere that night. After all she was still spying on him for Blade at the time.

Smiling, Krista pulls back to gaze upon every nuance of the slack-jawed expression on her husband's face. "After that night, I made my choice. And I chose _you_, Marcus."

At a loss for words, Marcus responds in the fashion most appropriate to him. Taking Krista's face in his hands, he bestows a tender kiss on his wife's lips.

However, at the precise moment their mouths meet, a sharp searing pain rips through Marcus' body forcing him to double over.

Alarmed to see her husband in such a state, Krista immediately tries to help him. In an effort to comfort him, she places her arm across his hunched over back. "Oh God, Marcus, what's wrong?"

Another shockwave of agony surges through him, negating Marcus' ability to answer. Krista urgently turns to Bessie and urges the matronly woman to call for Dr. Darkoh.

Through clenched teeth, Marcus tries to object. The last thing he wants is to have that _quack_ examine him. But Krista, whose only concern is for his wellbeing, refuses to listen to his unintelligible protests.

"Bessie call Dr. Darkoh, _now_!"

Without a moment's hesitation, the headmistress moves swiftly towards the intercom panel. As Krista and the children look on in horror, Marcus' condition rapidly worsens. The whites of his eyes have now taken on a bluish hue, eerily accentuating the sapphire colored irises.

Marcus' characteristic pale skin appears paler still by the sudden appearance of a sickly hypothermia-like tinge. With trembling lips, Marcus tries to form a coherent sentence but his speech faculties fail him miserably. He then experiences another bolt of pain that forces him to go down to his knees.

Then, inexplicably Marcus' vision starts to dim, the world around him slowly fades out of existence.

Krista clutches him more tightly as her words beseech him not to succumb to unconsciousness. "Baby, stay with me! Help is coming but you have to stay with me!"

But it's no use. Marcus starts to flail about uncontrollably as a seizure overtakes him. His eyes roll into the back of his head as Krista cries frantically. "Oh God no, no, Marcus don't leave me!"

He can still hear Krista's voice calling out desperately to him, but she sounds so far away.

Suddenly Marcus imagines her standing on some distance shore begging him to swim back to her, back to the safety of her arms. But he's gone out too far. The shore line is barely visible to him as he feels the force of the powerful current start to pull him under. Lost and set adrift in the vast ocean of oblivion, Marcus thrashes his arms and legs about with all his might trying desperately to try to stay afloat. His body however is violently tugged under the massive black waves. He opens his mouth in a vain attempt to scream, but soon realizes his mistake when the cold liquidity of the foul putrid water starts to fill his lungs. Marcus is helplessly drowning as the great sea nothingness swallows him whole.

And down, down he goes. Slipping deeper into the fathomless abyss, Marcus finds nothing but the dead silence and emptiness of the void.

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End Chapter Four


	5. Chapter 5

**Blood Ties**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Marvel Comics, New Line Cinema or Blade the Series. However all original characters are mine.

**Summary: **At the behest of some of the readers I have written a sequel to my story "Bloodline". This takes place a few weeks after the events in the first story.

Marcus Van Sciver has made good on his promise to accompany his wife, Krista to the Aids ravaged country of Botswana in the heart of the Africa.

As Marcus lies ill, his wife Krista is desperate for answers from Dr. Darkoh. However the "good" doctor's prognosis reveals more than Krista bargained for, much more.

These two ladies will be anything but nice to each other. Cat-fight anyone?

Meow!

**Chapter Five**

Krista has kept a constant vigil at her husband's side, anxiously waiting for the moment when he regains consciousness.

It's been nearly 48 hours since Marcus succumbed to the mysterious ailment that has placed him in a comatose state. Dr. Darkoh and her staff have been caring for him diligently but there has been very little change in his condition and much to Krista's bitter disappointment, still no answers.

And despite Bessie's insistence that she go back to her room to rest, Krista Van Sciver has vowed to stay at Marcus' bedside no matter what.

Sitting in an uncomfortable metal folding chair, Krista starts to doze off in spite of her best efforts to stay awake. However she is alert again when suddenly she feels a warm hand on her shoulder. Slightly startled, she looks up to find Bessie's friendly face smiling down at her. But behind that cheery expression, Krista's weary eyes also detect motherly concern.

"How's he doin', child?" Bessie asked sympathetically as she casts her gaze towards Marcus' seemingly lifeless form.

Krista sighs tiredly. "It's more of the same, Bess. I just wish I knew what was going on!"

"I'm sure that Dr. Darkoh is doin' all she can for Marcus. But if you don't get some sleep, you're gonna end up in a hospital bed right along side him! Go on girl, get some rest. I'll stay and if he even moves a finger I'll come get you right away!"

Her heart tells to her remain, but Krista's knows that she truly is exhausted, feeling the ache and fatigue all the way to her bones.

Patting Bessie's hand in a gesture of appreciation, she rises from her chair to allow Bessie to sit.

"Thanks. But if anything should happen…"

"Stop worryin', I'll call you the very second it does! Now, shoo!"

Krista smiles at the woman that in many ways has become like a second mother to her. Not that she'll ever take the place of her own late mother, Lisa, but Bessie comes pretty damn close.

As she turns to leave the hospital room, Krista comes face to face with Dr. Darkoh. Their meeting in the hallway is so abrupt, that the women almost run into each other.

"Sorry, doctor. I didn't see you there."

The physician shrugs off the apology then addresses Krista with her distinctive aloofness. "Ah, Mrs. Van Sciver, I was just coming to see you."

Anxiously Krista's eyes search for a hint of good tidings in the doctor's stoic expression. "Well, is there any information on what's happened to my husband?"

"Yes. But I'm afraid the news is not good."

Upon hearing Dr. Darkoh's words, Krista is immediately panic stricken. "Oh God, what's wrong with Marcus? Please tell me doctor, I have to know."

Without an ounce of sympathy, the doctor reveals her prognosis on Marcus' condition. "It's the serum, Mrs. Van Sciver. Your husband has had an adverse reaction to its properties. Simply put, he has gone into an acute state of vampiric anaphylactic shock."

Krista is dumbfounded, but due to her early medical training in the US Army she is not ignorant to the symptoms of a severe allergic reaction.

"Forgive me, doctor. But if that were that case, wouldn't have Marcus' symptoms manifested themselves long before we arrived here? After all, he was inoculated weeks prior to leaving the States."

Raising an eyebrow the doctor responds carefully. She knows now that she is not dealing with a misinformed lay person. "That is true, Mrs. Van Sciver, but only if your husband were _human. _Allergies in _hominus_ _nocturni _occur quite differently, especially for a vampire such as Marcus. Due to your kind's unique metabolism and physiological make up reactions to things such as sunlight, garlic and silver are immediate and deadly.

However other causes of anaphylactic shock in some vampires maybe slow to exhibit themselves. Ingestion or inoculation of synthetic plasma or other artificially engineered blood products can seem harmless at first. But continued use could weaken a vampire's immune system over time. In your husband's case the degradation of his immunological system although gradual, had begun. Luckily I was able to stabilize his condition just in time."

Crossing her arms across her chest, Krista is quickly losing her patience. "So what happens now? What are going to do to counter act the affects?"

"Why, Mrs. Van Sciver the answer is simple. He must not be immunized again. To put it bluntly, due to Mr. Van Sciver's considerable age he has consumed far too much blood for the serum to have a positive affect on him."

"So what are trying to say, Dr. Darkoh?"

"What I'm trying to say Mrs. Van Sciver is that another dose of the serum will kill him."

Krista is floored. "Will he recover?"

With a wry little smile the doctor replies. "Oh yes, but he will need to consume fresh blood to do so."

"_Fresh blood_?" Krista repeats.

"In order for your husband to regain his health, he will need to drink the blood from a recent kill." Dr. Darkoh smiles widely, revealing two rows of pearly white teeth.

"But that would mean…"

"He needs to _hunt,_ stalk his prey out in the open like the predator that he truly is. However, that is something that I cannot allow. For the sake of this facility and the patients under my care, as soon as he is able to travel, Mr. Van Sciver must leave."

At this point Krista is livid. How dare this bureaucratic healthcare provider dictate to her?

"This is my _husband_ you're talking about! He is not an animal and I will not _endanger_ him by putting him on the next plane out of here!"

Dr. Darkoh's calm veneer begins to show cracks as the anger that has been seething underneath starts to bubble to the surface.

"Now you listen to me! I _am_ the administrator of this hospital! And it is my job to ensure the safety and wellbeing of everyone that dwells here! It is _you_ and your _husband_ that are endangering the lives of everyone human in this facility!

And don't think for one moment that I've forgotten what you two _really _are! I've tolerated your presence because I believed that there was no imminent threat to the patients. But now it seems that the only thing keeping you from ripping out everyone's throats has just been deemed a _failure_! How long will it be before the serum no longer keeps _you _at bay, Mrs. Van Sciver? It may be only a matter of time before I find you in the nursery _draining_ the infants dry instead of cradling them!"

Instinct and rage take over and before anyone can stop her, Krista lunges towards the snide doctor. Swiftly grabbing her by the throat, she slams the other woman against the wall, and then proceeds to roughly push the doctor up against the drywall partition.

Krista's sharp teeth are now gnashing together as she snarls at the woman struggling in her grasp. Dr. Darkoh's twisted hands attempt to pry Krista's fingers away from her neck, but it's no use she is much too strong. The frightened physician can now see that the irises of Krista's eyes are blood-red and burning brightly with hate.

"You're right doctor…I may lose control and decide to make a meal out of _you_ right here, right now!"

"Krista, don't!"

The sound of Bessie's anxious voice causes Krista to whip her head around. The second her eyes take in the frightened expression on headmistress' face, Krista is filled with shame and remorse.

"Bessie..." Krista stops short when she notices that her actions have drawn a small crowd comprised of some of the other staff members. Everyone, from orderlies to nurses, can't help but stare at the dreadful spectacle before them with wide-eyed terror.

Mortified by her own reprehensible behavior, Krista slowly lowers Dr. Darkoh back to terra firma.

Then as she turns back around to address the people that she has worked so closely with for so many years, a young wild-eyed nurse's aide points accusingly at Krista with a shaky finger.

In a low foreboding tone she utters a single ominous word. "_Owenga_!"

Another nurse upon hearing the damning declaration hastily makes the sign of the cross in an attempt to ward off any evil.

Then the young woman says it again, only this time it's a piercing blood curdling shriek. "_Owenga_! She is _owenga_!"

Almost simultaneously the group takes a few steps back, clearly distancing themselves from Krista.

It has been made very apparent to Krista that she has now exposed her true self to the colleagues have befriended and trusted her. How could she explain this situation away? Only a handful of people were given exclusive knowledge of Krista's and Marcus' "uniqueness".

And now because of her carelessness, she may have put all of her friends in mortal danger. Now that they all knew her secret, she was almost certain that the House of Chthon would order their immediate extermination. The risk of unwanted publicity was too great and something that could not be ignored. Krista, however will do everything in her power to prevent that from happening.

"You see, Mrs. Van Sciver? They are all afraid of you, as they should be!" Dr. Darkoh's words are dripping with venom as she gloats over her supposed triumph over Krista. She is now slowly circling around her, stalking her as a predator would shadow their intended quarry.

Krista knows that she is going in for the kill, she can feel it. Not wanting to take her eyes of Dr. Darkoh for even a moment, she follows her every move.

"The _owenga_ are the harbingers of death in my country, Mrs. Van Sciver." The cunning Sheila Darkoh takes great pleasure of informing Krista of that fact.

But she doesn't stop there. There is much more she wishes to reveal and she does so with hateful fervor. "They are known to be the takers of blood, the murderers of _children_! I saw first hand what creatures like you did to the people of my village. How they would gorge themselves on the blood of the living, leaving nothing but devastation in their wake!

But the shaman put a stop to your kind! He told the men what to do. One by one, the _owenga_ were hunted down. They were dragged out kicking and screaming from their decaying stinking lairs only to be exposed to light of day! And I remember how I rejoiced as I watched their bodies' burn to a crisp. The _owenga_ were reduced to nothing but smoldering cinder, as _you_ one day will be!"

Krista is visibly shaken by Dr. Darkoh's admission. Her blatant hatred towards her and her kind has finally been unmasked, and that makes this woman a dangerous enemy. And there is no telling to what lengths she will go to destroy the Van Sciver's.

As for Bessie, she is completely incensed by the chief of staff's cruelty towards Krista, and immediately comes to her defense.

With the fierce protectiveness of a lioness she places herself in front of Krista, shielding her from another verbal onslaught from Dr. Darkoh.

"That's quite enough out of you, Shelia! I'm not goin' stand here and let you talk to Krista that way! If you're lookin' for a fight, then look no further!"

With a defiant sneer the doctor only scoffs. "Typical. Coming to the defense of your mistress like a good little pet, isn't that right _familiar_? _You_ are nothing but a _traitor_ to your own species!"

Krista, empowered by Bessie's show of loyalty, quickly regains her composure. She cannot allow this tyrannical medical professional continue to spew her diatribe of hate. And the time has come to make an example of her.

Straightening her spine, Krista Van Sciver stands at her full height as her penetrating eyes bore into Dr. Darkoh's. "You know what, doctor? I've heard just about enough your bigoted bullshit! You're _fired_! You have one hour to clean out your desk and gather your personal belongings. Security will then collect your badge and escort you out of the building!"

Sheila Darkoh finds herself in a state of shock over her sudden dismissal and for the briefest of moments is rendered speechless. But soon enough, she finds her voice again.

"What?! This is preposterous! You can't fire me! I am the one of the world's leading AIDS researchers. Do you have any idea how many years I have invested in trying to find a blasted cure? Of course not! You were always too busy playing _Mary_ _Poppins_ with those brats to even care! You _need_ me!"

With a wry little smile Krista retorts, "I think we'll manage just fine! This hospital was established by the House of Chthon before you were even born and it will still be standing here long after your bones have turned to dust! You've been left to own devices for far too long Dr. Darkoh. And I blame myself for being so lenient with you, for allowing you to think that you were somehow in charge. But most importantly, you seem to have forgotten the cardinal rule. _Never bite the hand that feeds you_! Now get the _fuck_ out of my sight you ungrateful bitch, while you're still able to!"

Bessie, meanwhile, places her hands on her rounded hips and sticks out her chest in a haughty manner. "That's right, keep it movin'! And don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya!"

She then saunters over to the telephone hanging on the wall, picks up the receiver and places it to her ear. Within a matter of seconds she contacts the security room. And soon enough two burly looking guards materialize as if out of thin air. Quickly, they flank the former chief of staff informing her that they are ready to accompany her wherever she needs to go.

Krista addresses the security guards with all of the authority befitting the wife of Chthon's supreme leader. "Escort her to her office and make sure that she takes nothing but her personal affects, is that clear?"

Both men answer their mistress in unison. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. And she is to go nowhere near the lab! All of her research files, notes and any other material relating to the AIDS mutation are now the exclusive property of Van Sciver Enterprises as per her employment agreement."

The guards silently acknowledge Krista's instructions before escorting the humiliated Dr. Darkoh down the corridor that leads to her office. As she is being led away, she twists her head around to look directly at Krista.

Her dark eyes glitter menacingly as she addresses her former employer. "You'll be sorry, just you wait and see! This isn't over by a long shot. I have powerful friends in the government and I will not rest until they shut the doors of this facility then take it down brick by brick. I only hope that I live long enough to see the day when you and your blood sucking husband are finally put to death for your crimes against humanity! And that day is coming, Mrs. Van Sciver. Make no mistake about it; your day of reckoning is at hand!"

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_Your day of reckoning is at hand!_

Shelia Darkoh's last words echo repeatedly in Krista's mind, like an odious curse. Its sole intent is to shake the foundations of the Van Sciver's sheltered and well guarded environment. Krista feels so miserable right now, that it appears the doctor succeeded in rattling her cage.

"Bah, don't listen to her, Krista! This place practically ran itself before _she_ darkened our doorstep. We'll be fine, child. You'll see!"

Krista frowns. She knows that Bessie is right. There are a slew of other renowned physicians clamoring to fill the position left behind by Shelia Darkoh. Replacing her would be the easy part. But now Krista Van Sciver faces the daunting task of undoing the damage wrought by that hateful woman. Reassuring her staff that they have nothing to fear from her or Marcus will be difficult but it has to be done nonetheless.

Taking in a deep breath Krista turns to face her staff. The uncertainty and fear reflected in their eyes mirrors her own. Hesitation causes her to falter a bit, but when she feels Bessie take her hand, it is all the encouragement she needs.

"I won't insult your intelligence by pretending that what you witnessed didn't actually happen. But I want you all to know that I am not this raving bloodthirsty _owenga_ that Dr. Darkoh spoke of. I would not harm any of you and neither will my husband. You have my word."

One of the male orderlies speaks up, an older man named James. "You forgive me, Miss, but I don't think I can work here any longer. With you around, it's not safe."

James' words pain Krista, but she can hardly blame him.

"If any of you feel the same way, then you are free to go. I will not stop you. I know that a few of you have not been with us long and I understand your decision. But as for the rest, I can honestly say that I consider you to be my dearest friends."

The young woman that had accused Krista as one of the _owenga_ now scoffs at her claims of friendship. "Creatures such as you have no friends, only _victims_!"

Krista can feel the sickly sensation of bile rising in her throat as some of what the nurses' aide has said resonates within her. How many lives had _she_ taken over the years, how much blood had she split? True, with few exceptions, it had never been the blood of innocents, but she had killed nonetheless.

Closing her eyes she can't help but see the endless faces of those have died by her hand. They had all been criminals of the most depraved order. Murders, sadistic rapists, wife-beaters all brought to justice for their crimes. And each had met their end swiftly when her razor sharp fangs punctured their flesh and she partook of their blood.

But what made her any better than them? Did killing in the name of justice change what she is? Is taking the life of a heinous criminal redeem her somehow, make her less of threat?

_An eye for and an eye. _

_A tooth for a tooth._

_A life for a life. _

_Blood for blood._

This is what Krista tells herself each and every time a despicable excuse for human being is brought before her for execution. It is her justicifcation to do what must be done.

But does it make it right? And does it matter to the fearful people standing before her?

And now as she looks upon the anxious faces of her employees, the answer to her questions suddenly comes to her.

"Look, I'm not going to stand here and deny what I am. But can any of you deny what we've shared and built together over the years? Some of you have been here long enough know what our struggles have been to find a cure and wipe AIDS off the map! We've shared much more than just a working relationship, haven't we?"

The corners of Krista's mouth curl slightly when she notices that two or three of the older employees have nodded in agreement.

Somehow she is given the confidence to go on. "I've been here through it all from the moment we broke ground here almost 89 years ago. And as the decades passed I've cried tears of joy with the ones that came before you. Watched as the little ones that survived grew up to be earnest young men and women. And I also consoled you, offered my comfort when needed. I held your hands in mine as we stood side by side weeping over the many graves of the children we buried. Together, we have made this facility what it is today, by offering hope and a safe haven to those that need it the most. Don't allow your fear and ignorance destroy what we've all worked so hard for."

Slowly, doubt and apprehension start to dissipate as Krista's impassioned words resonate with a few members of the staff.

Bessie chooses this moment to say something on her behalf. "Listen to me, this is _Krista_. C'mon, you all know her! You've seen her with the children! Can any of you honestly say that she'd hurt them or _you_ for that matter? Search your hearts! You know what I'm tellin' you is the gospel truth!"

Krista gazes hopefully at the small crowd, searching for a glimmer of hope.

Then finally James tentatively steps forward. "Miss Krista, I have to ask one thing: what guarantee do we have that you won't hurt us?"

Sighing, Krista demonstrates hesitation at revealing the secret of the serum. She had always counted on the synthetic elixir to curb her appetite for blood. But now after hearing Dr. Darkoh's findings, she is no longer sure of its effects.

And what about her husband, Marcus? If the staff finds out about his negative reaction and the treatment needed to restore him to health, panic would spread throughout the hospital like wildfire. No, Krista decides that she can't reveal the truth. Not just yet, not until Marcus was well enough to leave.

"There is a serum available to our kind that suppresses our thirst. Humans have nothing to fear from us while we are under its influence."

The nurse's aide is not convinced. "I don't care what you say! I'm _leaving_!"

As turns to go she twists her head to address her co-workers over her shoulder. "And if any of you knows what's good for you, you'll do the same!"

Sadly, Krista watches two more nurses silently break away from the rest of group to follow their colleague. The remaining three employees, however stay where they are.

Then to her pleasant surprise, a tall reed of a man moves toward her. Krista instantly recognizes him as Dr. Darkoh's very competent lab assistant, Dr. Oscar Mutabo.

"Mrs. Van Sciver." His voice is deep, reminding Krista of rolling thunder. "I cannot speak for my colleagues, but _I_ will stay. There is still much to be done and I want to help you. After all, I am a man of science. I will not allow superstitious nonsense scare me off."

Tears of gratitude start to roll down Krista's cheeks. "Thank you Dr. Mutabo. Thank you so much!"

"I will also stay, Miss Krista." James the orderly firmly reassures her.

Lastly, the head nurse for the triage unit, a petite woman named Ashanti vows to not only remain but to do everything she can to help.

Overcome with emotion, she smiles through her tears.

After a few more moments Krista thanks her staff once more before she tries to go back to her room. She wants nothing more right now than a very hot shower and a soft bed to rest her weary bones. But as she turns to leave, quite unexpectedly, Krista starts to feel very lightheaded. Then a wave of nausea washes over. As she swoons, her knees buckle as if her legs can no longer support the weight of her body.

Krista panics as she feels herself slipping towards the floor. Involuntarily, her hand clamps down onto Bessie's shoulder in an attempt to hold herself up.

Bessie, in turn instinctively reacts by wrapping a strong arm around Krista's waist, preventing her from sliding down to the floor beneath her.

"Krista what's wrong?" Bessie asks anxiously. But Krista is unable to answer her. Frantically, she tries to work her mouth, but the words won't come. Krista is filled with dread as her worse fears come true.

Her thoughts, like the winds a violent tempest, whirl around in her mind.

_Oh god, has the serum stopped working_? _This can't be happening, not_ _now_!

She can hear Bessie desperately call to Dr. Mutabo. "Please help her!"

Both Dr. Mutabo and James swiftly step forth to take a hold of her as Ashanti goes to look for a wheelchair. Within seconds the head nurse returns with the chair. Krista feels herself being hastily seated in it. And she being wheeled down the corridor towards the emergency room, Krista feels the weight of Bessie's hand in hers.

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Krista's eyelids suddenly fly open after experiencing a fitful slumber plagued by harrowing nightmares that she cares not to remember. Her dreams were disturbingly hunting and almost vividly real.

She recalls flashing images of children playing in a courtyard all dressed white. Their happy chatter and laughter still resonate in her ears.

Oddly, in her dream the sun had been shining but it had not blistered her skin. Krista often dreams of sunlit days. It's her subconscious longing for something that can never be again.

Distinctly, she now remembers seeing her husband, Marcus in her dream. He had stood at a distance. Silently he had watched the children play various games of tag, and hide-and-go-seek. Her memories tell her that she had waved at Marcus. But instead of acknowledging her, he continued to ogle the children with a disquieting intensity.

Why had he been staring like that? Then it dawns on her. Krista suddenly remembers looking into the frosty blue of his eyes. And that's when she had felt it, the unsettling chill that crawled down her spine.

What lied in that concentrated gaze had been unmistakable. There, in her beloved's eyes was a raw, primal hunger. There was no question that Marcus' bloodlust had been provoked judging from the predatory expression on his face.

_Marcus, no!_

She broke out into a sprint, running as fast she could towards the children in an attempt to save them from the inevitable onslaught. But as she pumped her legs, the sun was unexpectedly blotted out of the sky by dark ominous clouds. Great torrents of sheeting rain had begun to pelt the arid earth below, quickly transforming it into a huge mud pit.

Krista had struggled to get to the defenseless children, but she was prevented from doing so when she felt something touch her leg. Quickly she looked down and to her horror she saw that a series of hands had shot up from the muddy ground. As she screamed cold boney fingers had begun to tug at her. Savagely the disembodied digits had grabbed her legs and ankles. And as Krista thrashed about to get free, she felt herself being pulled deeper and deeper into the black gooey muck.

Sadly the last thing she had seen before waking up was the frightening vision of her husband viciously picking off the children, one by one. He had taken great pleasure in greedily drinking their blood as he slurped and smacked his lips. And when he drained his last victim Marcus suddenly lifted his head and smiled hideously at her.

The memory of the ghoulish grin, with its exposed fangs, and blood tinged mouth makes Krista shudder, even now. She knows it was just a dream, but it seemed so real.

As Krista's eyes acclimate themselves to the real world, she finds herself in strange surroundings. She is not in her room as expected but on a hospital bed. And suddenly it call comes back to her:

The fainting spell, holding Bessie's hand as she was being rushed to emergency, and the terrible fear that the serum had failed to do its job eating away at her.

Abruptly, her dark contemplations are interrupted by the sound of the bed curtain being drawn back by Dr. Mutabo.

He greets her warmly. "Ah, Mrs. Van Sciver, I see that you are awake. I hope you were able to get some rest."

"Barely," she mutters under her breath.

"Oh well that's too bad. But I highly recommend that you get plenty of rest from now on. A woman in your condition is going to need it."

_Oh no, here it comes! I knew it! There's something wrong with me! I need to get out of here before I kill someone!_

Being an astute student of body language, Dr. Mutabo notices that his patient is tense from worry.

Gently he rests his hand on hers and says reassuringly, "Mrs. Van Sciver, you seem anxious. But there is really no need. I took the liberty to speak with the other doctors that are familiar with vampire physiology.

They were most helpful and assisted me to run some tests. You'll be glad to know that by vampire standards, you are perfectly healthy. Your blood work also came back and it shows that your hemoglobin count is low. But that's to be expected since you are not ingesting blood as a result of the serum."

"The serum?" Krista parrots with disbelief. "You mean its _working_?"

Dr. Mutabo doesn't understand the question. "Why of course it's working. Why would you think otherwise?"

Krista lies. "Oh, it's nothing." Silently she offers up a prayer of thanks that her bloodlust is still under control.

Then she asks, "Dr. Mutabo, what happened to me earlier? Why did I have that dizzy spell?"

Smiling broadly he happily answers her. "That is a perfectly normal occurrence with _expectant mothers_."

"Oh my God,does that mean…?"

"Yes, Mrs. Van Sciver, congratulations! You are pregnant!"

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End Chapter Five


	6. Chapter 6

**Blood Ties**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Marvel Comics, New Line Cinema or Blade the Series. However all original characters are mine.

**Author's Notes: **I send a heartfelt apology to all of my loyal readers for my long absence. I know that some of you may have given up all hope for new chapter. But I'm back and so are my frequent updates. Again, I'm sorry for being away so long.

**Summary: **At the behest of some of the readers I have written a sequel to my story "Bloodline". This takes place a few weeks after the events in the first story.

Marcus Van Sciver has made good on his promise to accompany his wife, Krista to the Aids ravaged country of Botswana in the heart of the Africa.

Our last chapter ended with the revelation of Krista's impending motherhood. I know that many of you maybe asking, how is this possible? Vampires can't breed, can they?

All will be explained in this chapter.

**Chapter Six**

"_Pregnant_? That's impossible! I can't be!"

Dr. Mutabo only smiles at Krista's disbelief. "I can certainly understand your reaction, Mrs. Van Sciver. Most first-time mothers experience a period of denial, it's only natural."

Krista shakes her head from side to side, refuting the kindly physician's estimation on her current state of mind. "You _don't_ understand. I _can't_ be pregnant! It's not _possible_!"

Dr. Mutabo looks contemplatively at his patient for a moment. He comprehends her apprehension, but the test results are conclusive. Krista _is_ with child, and she has to accept it.

"Mrs. Van Sciver, as impossible as it is to believe, you _are_ pregnant. I had Dr. Shepard, the in-house expert on vampirology, run the test three times just to be certain."

Noting that Krista still remains unconvinced, Dr. Mutabo gently lays his hand upon hers. He manages a small smile as he gives her hand a slight squeeze of reassurance. "There is no doubt, Krista. You are going to have a baby."

Krista is absolutely inexpressible. Her heart and mind are trying to reconcile the inescapable fact that she is going to have a child!

_Marcus' _child!

_Oh God, Marcus! How will he take the news that he is going to be a father? He was just getting used to the idea of being around children and now he's going to get saddled with one of his own! _

A half-smile slowly forms on her lips. Could Krista dare to hope that her prayers have finally been answered? As miraculous as this may seem, anxiety and uncertainty quickly douse her newfound optimism. She just has to know how this happened and more importantly, why.

"Dr. Mutabo, you said that you spoke to the other doctors familiar with my medical history, correct?"

"Of course, I did." Dr. Mutabo's reply is a bit incredulous for Krista's liking, but she knows he only has her best interests at heart.

"Then you've been brought up to speed on how things work with vampires. Simply put, turn-bloods _cannot_ conceive! When I lost my mortal life I was rendered infertile. Only purebloods can procreate. It's their way of making sure the bloodlines remain untainted. It's something to do with birthrights and inheritances, ensuring that only natural born vampires remain as the ruling class."

Not caring a thing about the vampire sub-culture's internal politics, Dr. Mutabo dismissively waves his hand. He is a man ruled by logic and scientific evidence. And in this case, the evidence is overwhelming. Krista, despite the odds against her, has a life growing inside her womb.

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His learned colleague Dr. Shepard did disclose, in great detail, the differences of pureblood and turn-blood bodily processes, specifically vampire procreation.

Purebloods, being natural-born _hominus nocturni_, can breed and bear offspring in the same manner as _homo-sapiens_ do. Females even possess the inherent ability to lactate and nurse their young. They can almost be classified as being mammalian in nature. Logically, not being warm-blooded creatures, _hominus nocturni_ are considered to be a humanoid sub-species in a class all by themselves.

Of course it is not milk that is produced in their mammary glands but a highly concentrated form of a plasma-like substance called hemo-lactoglobulin. It is very nutritious and beneficial to the infant vampire.

And it is during this crucial period of lactation that a vampire experiences the most growth. Bypassing the early stages of infancy and childhood associated with human development, a pureblood vampire will reach pre-adolescence and in some rare cases, even young adulthood within the first year of its life.

However, that's when the "growth spurt" ends. Dr. Mutabo, to his amazement, has learned that a natural born vampire's ageing process slows down considerably after year-one. In fact the lucky devils only age one human year for every two centuries they are alive, thus retaining their youthful appearance for hundreds of years.

As for turn-bloods, although they share many similarities with their pureblood counterparts, their vampirism is brought on by _infection, _not genetics Fascinatingly enough, from a strictly scientific basis, it is a rare enzyme, found only in the turn-blood offshoots of the species that is responsible for this truly amazing transformation. It is a powerful toxin produced by special glands located just above the canines.

When a turn-blood vampire feeds on a victim the poisonous contaminant is quickly introduced into the bloodstream. This potent venom will bring about extreme biological changes in the human if he or she is not bled dry. Changes so acute, so severe, that it causes a complete shut down of the nervous system, severing the messages from the brain that control all bodily functions.

The heart ceases its palpitations, the lungs collapse and in some cases the muscles will atrophy. Only the brain remains active. However, most medical examiners do not find the need to use an electroencephalogram to detect brainwaves for the seemingly deceased.

So, even to the most discriminating clinical eye, a victim of a vampire attack appears for all intents and purposes to be clinically dead.

The so-called "mortal" life has ended. But, as Dr. Mutabo has discovered through his discussions with Dr. Shepard that is not the case at all. The human is very much alive, but has fallen into a state of complete death-like paralysis. It is a temporary hibernation phase that allows the metamorphosis from human to vampire to take place.

And once the process is complete, the victim emerges from their slumber in a new mutated state of being. No longer human, they now possess the same characteristics as their pureblood brethren. But with one significant difference: they cannot reproduce. The venom has seen to that. Whether by natural design or an unknown plot by the purebloods to keep their numbers low, turn-bloods, as a general rule, are sterile. The only way they can "procreate" is by "infecting" another human, as they once had been.

Of course the leaders from all twelve Houses have also curtailed this practice by limiting the number of humans an "infected" vampire could actually turn in a decade, thus ensuring a continued food supply.

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"Then if you know all of this, doctor, how can _I_ be pregnant? Both my husband and I are turn-bloods."

Dr. Mutabo nods, knowing that Krista's misgivings are, in theory, well-founded.

The kindly physician calmly regards his patient before he reveals his startling prognosis. "My dear Mrs. Van Sciver, you are pregnant due to an unforeseen but extraordinary side effect of the serum. Because you had the foresight to be inoculated during the first few weeks after you were infected, the serum somehow began to counteract some of the typical parasitic symptoms of your kind, such as the need to ingest blood on a continual basis. And due to your continued and long-term use of the synthetic plasma, your reproductive organs' fertility has been restored."

"But what about Marcus, was he also affected by the serum this way?" Krista's exasperation is very evident as she furrows her brow.

"Yes and no. What I mean to say is that yes, Mr. Van Sciver's ability to procreate was resurrected as but the serum's effects were too sudden, too immediate. His body did not have the benefit of small doses over time so that he could become accustomed to the metabolic changes."

Krista is alarmed by the doctor's insinuations. She does not like the turn of this exchange in the slightest. "What are you trying to say Dr. Mutabo? That my husband overmedicated himself?"

Dr. Mutabo's face takes on a grave expression before he addresses his distressed patient. "I'm afraid so, Krista. Marcus knew that because of his age, the serum would work slowly on him. He feared that his need for blood would ruin your trip here so he asked Dr. Shepard to inject him with a double dose of serum despite my colleague's misgivings."

Her eyes begin to well up with unshed tears, as Krista is racked with tremendous guilt. Anxiety causes her to roughly wring her hands as she silently lays the blames at her own feet over what happened to Marcus. If she hadn't accepted his offer to accompany her this time, then he wouldn't have felt the need risk his health to please her.

Despite her feeble attempts to put on a brave face, Dr. Mutabo sees right through Krista's masquerade. Sensing Krista's worries, the health care provider tenderly lays his fingers on her hands. His touch is light yet caring and reassuring. Soon enough she feels Dr. Mutabo's warmth and kindness radiating outward as the tips of his calloused fingers slightly graze her skin. Grateful for the simple gesture of compassion, the unlikely mother-to-be ceases the nervous kneading of her hands.

When he is assured that Krista's fretfulness has been vanquished, Dr. Mutabo addresses her in a soothing fatherly tone. "Everything will be alright, Mrs. Van Sciver, you'll see. You're husband is a strong man, a true warrior. He'll be back on his feet before you know it! But you, my dear need to keep your stress level down. It's not good for the baby."

"I-I don't know, doctor…this is all so much to absorb. Marcus is ill and now there's a baby to think about!"

"_A baby! _Oh my sweet girl, I'm so happy for you!"

Bessie's boisterous voice causes both Krista and Dr. Mutabo to look in her direction. She has been standing in the doorway of Krista's hospital room for just a few seconds, but it is all the time she needed to overhear the joyful news.

Grinning from ear to ear, Bessie beams with pride as she fast approaches the woman that is like a daughter to her.

"Krista, honey, you're going to be a mother!" Bessie's says lovingly. Then she places a motherly peck on Krista's left cheek.

Smiling feebly at the headmistress, Krista Van Sciver manages to croak out a response. "Yeah, can you believe it?"

Blinded by her own feelings of elation, Bessie fails to notice the apprehension in Krista's voice. Instead, she prattles on about all of the preparations that will need to be made before the arrival of the Van Sciver's first born.

Krista tries her best to share in Bessie's enthusiasm about her plans for the nursery, and shopping for the baby. But her concerns regarding her husband's conditions taint what should be a cheerful occasion.

Talking a mile a minute, Bessie hasn't allowed Krista to get a word in edgewise, but that's just fine by Mrs. Van Sciver. She allows the overbearing but well-meaning woman to speak for the both of them.

As a man that lives in a house full of women, Dr. Mutabo knows when his presence is no longer required. Quickly, he excuses himself, sighting the reason for his sudden departure to his duties in the lab. Giving Krista a final reassuring smile, he quickly turns to go.

"Thank you, Dr. Mutabo… for everything."

Touched by Krista's gratitude, the competent and kindly physician replies, "You're very welcome."

Then he gracefully leaves her room to give Bessie and Krista the privacy they need to plan for the blessed event.

Bessie barely acknowledges the doctor's exit as she continues to engineer the arrangements for the birth of Krista's baby.

"_Mamoa_, you make this all sound as if I were bringing forth the Crown Prince of England or something! I'm sure that a simple baby shower with just the nurses and other female staff members will be fine. Don't fuss so!"

Surprised and hurt by Krista's dismissive attitude about such a significant occurrence, Bessie is prompted to ask, "Child, what's wrong? You've barely said a word. Aren't you happy about the baby?"

Sighing with despair, the immortal expectant mother replies, "I am. It's all I've ever wanted. But I'm worried about Marcus. He's still so ill and with the situation with the serum he may not be able to say here with me. Oh Bessie, I don't want to have my baby alone while its father is on the other side of the ocean!"

Slapping a beefy hand to her forehead, Bessie suddenly remembers the reason she came to see Krista in the first place. "Oh sweet Jesus, I'd almost forgotten! I have great news, Krista! Marcus has just regained consciousness and he's been askin' to see you!"

Upon hearing Bessie's words, her spirits are suddenly lifted. Krista bolts from her bed with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning.

_Marcus is awake! I can hardly believe it_. Her thoughts are a happy jumble as her heart races with the anticipation of seeing her husband again.

"Mamoa, bring me my clothes. I can't see him wearing this _god-awful_ thing!" Krista points down to the dreadful institutional green colored gown that now drapes her slender frame.

Bessie springs into action to retrieve the freshly pressed garments she had the foresight to place in the hospital room locker just hours earlier.

Handing over the simple but elegant outfit of a white silk blouse, black knee length tweed skirt and black leather boots, Bessie watches as Krista hurriedly claims them.

A few minutes later, Krista Van Sciver is dressed and ready to greet her beloved. After applying the final touches of her light makeup, she picks up her brush, running it through her brown mane with long, vigorous strokes until the natural shine in her hair is achieved.

Placing the brush down onto the bathroom vanity, she regards her reflection in the mirror one last time. Satisfied with what she sees, Krista Van Sciver is set to see the man she loves and give him the happy news of his impending fatherhood.

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On a deserted dirt road leading away from the medical compound, a lone vehicle is seen speeding along at high velocity. Its occupant maneuvers the fine luxury automobile if they were being chased by the Devil himself.

Wearing large round sunglasses to shield her vision from the searing sun, Dr. Shelia Darkoh sits behind the wheel of her cherry red Jaguar sedan with a heavy foot on the gas pedal.

Deep in thought, her only desire at this moment is to put as much distance between the car and her former place of employment.

_That bitch! _Her mind angrily lashes out at Krista. Although her hatred for that elitist bloodsucker is increasing by each passing minute, Shelia quickly turns her fury inward for underestimating her foe. Dr. Darkoh had carelessly forgotten that underneath that do-gooder exterior lays the heart of a killer.

No matter, Krista still managed to play right into her hands by exposing her true self to the staff. And yes, Shelia's dismissal from the hospital was a minor setback. But now the rest of her plan can be executed without any further distractions, like caring for those sniveling snot-nosed _brats_!

Suddenly, she turns the wheel a hard right, placing the vehicle in an easterly direction. Soon enough any remaining vestiges of civilization are left far behind as the Jag pushes onward toward the desolation of the desert.

The arid wasteland is barren, save for the majestic looking sand-dunes that are scattered about as far as the eye can see. With expertise of _Les Mans_ racecar driver, Shelia effortlessly weaves her car in between the towering mounds of sand.

After what seems to be an infinitesimal amount of time, she finally encounters what appears to be the end of the desolate tract. Sheila smiles, when off in the distance she sees her objective: a massive solid wall of craggy sun-scorched rock jutting skyward from the red clay earth below.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly in her talon-like hands, Sheila presses her foot even harder on the gas pedal forcing her car to accelerate to its maximum velocity. Like a guided missile, the Jaguar speeds towards the naturally-made monolith, as a great plume of dust and gravel trails behind it.

The likelihood of another living soul out on the inhospitable terrain bearing witness to Shelia's frenzied driving is highly improbable. Nonetheless, if there is someone, they might think that the woman behind the wheel is on a direct collision course with colossal rock formation.

At last, when the car is just millimeters away from what might be certain death for its driver, the displaced physician doesn't even bat an eyelash as the jagged face the wall amazingly starts to shift, creating a cavernous passageway at its base. Like a huge gaping mouth, the rocky edifice swallows the Jaguar whole.

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As the face of the rock closes soundly behind her vehicle, Shelia Darkoh suddenly finds herself blanketed in total darkness. Reaching over the steering wheel, she presses a button to switch on the headlights.

"And let there be light" Shelia quotes the Book of Genesis aloud as the halogen lamps flood the dark corridor with much needed illumination.

Steadily the Jaguar travels the entire length the narrow passageway until it begins to widen, revealing an immense cavern at the very end. Unlike the gloomy bat infested tunnel with its guano-caked walls, this grotto is laden with the outrageous and luxurious comforts fit for a king. Every inch of wall space is covered with plush tapestries of deep burgundy and royal purple with just a hint of gold on the fringes.

Paintings by renowned artist from Caravaggio to Dali hang in places of prominence, as every brush stroke on their well-aged canvases are lovingly illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight from the magnificent cascading Austrian crystal chandelier overhead. The lavish landscapes and poignant portraits are rare and priceless. Indeed an art collector's dream.

There are also elegantly ornate furnishings serving a practical purpose as well as an aesthetically pleasing one. Strategically placed throughout the first level of the cave, the overstuffed couches and chairs are swathed with finest textured upholstery. Deceptively stylish and chic in appearance, the furniture has also been designed for comfort and relaxation.

Off to the far right, slightly elevated on a smooth platform of rock, is the dining area complete with an immense hand-carved mahogany table and throne-like chairs that can comfortably seat up to sixteen dinner guests, should the occasion ever arise. In the wake of the table is the arched doorway to the sprawling kitchen. Equipped with every modern appliance and cooking utensil known in the culinary arts, it is a chef's paradise.

And beyond that, chiseled right out of the craggy red stone, is a spiraling staircase leading up to the luxuriously decorated boudoir and Roman- style bath.

If one were to enter the expansive room, it would immediately become apparent that the king-sized four poster bed, carved out of the same mahogany as the dining table, is the centerpiece of this particular chamber. Adorned with its many fluffy pillows and lavish bedding of leopard-print satin sheets and a brimful down comforter of sumptuous gold and brown fabric, the extravagant bed could garner the envy the Queen of Sheba herself.

Shelia breaths a long sigh of relief as her weary eyes drink in the sights of this hidden oasis. Glad to finally be home, she carefully brings her vehicle to a complete stop on a large rotating circular pad. Gingerly, after allowing the powerful car's engine die down, she exits the Jaguar removing her dark sunglasses in the process.

Almost immediately her auditory senses are caressed by the dulcet tones of a familiar violin concerto. The soothing resonance of strings filters through the state-of-art sound system and reverberate off the cave walls. Shelia smiles as the music of Sebastian Bach heralds her unexpected homecoming.

_Well, the sentimental old sod has missed me_, she muses with a confident little smirk.

The male occupant of this fortress of earth and rock only plays his Bach CD when he cannot continue to endure Sheila's extended absences. Of course, his overblown ego would never admit to such maudlin behavior, but she knows better.

_It _has_ been far too long since my last visit._ Dr. Darkoh silently acknowledges this fact as she gracefully slinks towards the opulence of the living area.

After placing her _Louis Vuitton_ purse and car keys on a round marble-topped table, Shelia kicks off her stiletto heeled pumps. Gracefully she steps away from her discarded footwear, and sighs deeply. Wriggling her toes into the plush carpet below her, she can feel the circulation of blood slowly return to her aching feet. It has indeed been a long day and she is relieved to be rid of the stylish but impractical red _Prada _shoes that have unmercifully been crushing her feet.

_It still amazes me what we women will endure for the sake of fashion_, she muses to herself.

Struck with realization that her throat is terribly parched, Shelia knows of only one way to quench her thirst.

Her mind immediately conjures up an image of her favorite refreshment.

_A Seagram's and tonic would hit the spot right about now_.

Slowly, a sly grin spreads over her plump lips as she silently walks over to the fully stocked bar to fix herself a drink. However, the sight a tall, frosted glass containing the very concoction she is craving stops her dead in her tracks.

_He knows I'm home_. Shelia's smile broadens.

The certainty that her paramour is already aware of her presence makes her want something more than just a cocktail. Instinctively her supple body hungers for _his_ touch. Thoughts of being consumed within the flames of _his _intense, fiery passion makes her body quiver.

_But first let's see about that drink_…

Shelia reaches out to pick up the glass, but when she feels the weight of two manly arms capture her trim waist from behind, the gin and tonic is all but forgotten.

Groaning deep in her throat, her eyelids flutter closed. Her nostrils flare as a very male musky fragrance seduces her olfactory senses. Soon she is purring as warm, wet kisses are placed on her neck and shoulders. Lifting her right arm, she wraps it around her lover's head, as her fingers sink into the thickness of his midnight black mane. Gently, she cradles him as he continues to lavish his affections on her.

Feeling a kiss on the shell of her ear, Sheila hears the deep rich baritone of her lover's voice whisper hotly, "Welcome home my pet. I've missed you."

Wanting a proper homecoming, she lowers her arm then twists her body completely around to face the man she desires. Swiftly, she encircles his neck within her hungry embrace. Desperately, her wide, full lips instantly crush his. Her mouth devours his with a need that will not be sated until they are both spent from their lustful exertions. Plunging her long pink tongue into his waiting mouth, she conveys the urgency of her lust.

Moaning with equal ardor, the man's own tongue begins to glide right alongside Sheila's creating delicious friction. Then with large strong hands, he presses her body hard against his. Shelia whimpers when she feels the rock hard confirmation of his desire rubbing against her thigh.

Not wanting to waste anymore precious time, he disengages his mouth from hers, and then deftly scoops Sheila into his arms. Like a man with a mission, he proceeds to climb the spiral staircase that leads to their boudoir, taking two steps at a time.

Upon seeing his zealous state, Sheila chuckles throatily, then says eagerly, "I've missed too, William."

End Chapter Six


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